Trust Me
by MeriKanne
Summary: After Harry abandons Ron and Hermione at Shell Cottage, Hermione is 'kidnapped' by Draco and ends up in his bed as his girlfriend! Dumbledore leaves her a series of prophecies. Draco must get Hermione's secrets to save his family, but can he betray her?
1. A Little Green Monster

**Hello, my fellow lovers for fanfiction. This is my first fanfic, so I hope you like it. I would really love reviews, especially reviews asking for more of this story, and for some other stories. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. And I'm glad I don't, otherwise I would not be able to write my lovely fanfic, and I would probably not enjoy other people using my idea for fanfic. So I am glad J.K. Rowling owns HP (even if she gets all the money)**

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Draco couldn't watch as Granger, his enemy of six years, whom always bested him in everything, got tortured by his aunt Bellatrix Lestrange. A few Snatchers had gotten a hold of the Golden Trio and deposited them at Malfoy Manor. Who he was pretty sure was Potter (for his face was most hideous) and the blood traitor Weasley, were left to rot in Draco's basement with Ollivander, Dean Thomas, and the goblin Griphook. Draco swiftly left the room to hide himself from the horror in Grangers eyes, and rid his ears of her terrible shrieks produced by the Cruciatus Curse.

Draco, given Grangers beaded bag, ran to his bedroom to scour the mudblood's belongings. He rumbled through, oddly happy that he got to riffle through the purse. He shifted around until his fingers grazed something that he didn't expect to find in Grangers emergency bag. He gripped the soft leather and pulled it out.

So Granger had a diary? Draco smirked. He expected to find entries of how much she hated him, or how Weasley and Brown were snogging their heads off, or even maybe notes for her schoolwork. But he did not expect to find hearts written all over the first page with an H.G. +? inside a heart. _So, the Gryffindor Princess has a crush. I wouldn't be surprised if it was Potter or Weasley. _Draco thought. He turned the page delicately to read on. He may be a snotty, rich, pureblood, but he still was a gentlemen when it came to personal items. Plus, he didn't want Granger knowing he looked. He doubted she'd last against his aunt, but still.

_Dear Diary,_

_Ron has been awful to me since he's been going out with Lavender. It's not that I don't like her, its just that Ron has been bloody ignorant to my feelings. Lavender is getting a little possessive over Ron too, I might add. I know that everyone is saying that Ron and I should date. Or even get married. But I really don't want to spend my life with a prat like him. I mean, I did like him and all, but to see the way he treats his friends…… I just couldn't live with it._

_Also, I've noticed, that ever since 5__th__ year when Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad discovered Harry's plan and he saw me lie to her, he's actually acted like a civilized man. Well, as civilized as that particular Slytherin git gets. _

Draco stared at _that particular Slytherin git _in mild bemusement. So, the bookworm went for the bad boy type, or at least, what she couldn't have,

being Gryffindor Princess. As the thought of her liking a fellow Slytherin, a gleam of jealousy flashed in his eyes. Almost gone unnoticed by even himself.

"Draco Malfoy!" his deranged aunt screamed. Draco dropped the book on his green, silken pillow and darted out of the gigantic green room, not wanting punishment from Bella. Draco slid into the foyer at the same time Potter, Weasley, and the Malfoy's former House Elf, Dobby, appeared.

()()()()()()()()

Hermione did not feel the glass of the chandelier shatter into a thousand glittering crystals next to her unconscious figure, or felt Ron pull her up as they apparated with Dobby to Bill and Fleur's cottage. She did awake with a migraine to Ron sitting next to her bed stroking her hair. Tears glistened on his cheek.

"Wha…what happened? Is something wrong?" Hermione started to sit up, then fell back on the coarse bedding when her vision blurred. Fleur Weasley walked in just as Hermione regained her focus holding a delicate, white porcelain tray with two mysterious looking bottles, and a steaming bowl of broth.

"Zis ees for your 'eadache," Fleur passed a sickly green bottle to Ron, who measured out the appropriate amount. "And zis will 'elp any more aches and pains," Fleur said in her flowery French accent. Hermione sniffed the foul smelling brackish liquid and hurriedly gulped down the foul medicine. "You should eat zis. It should 'elp settle the stomach." Ron passed over the now not-so-steamy soup when Harry appeared at the door. He had tear streaks across his face, and was up to his knees in mud

"Oh Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked.

"Dobby. He saved us, and Bellatrix killed him. She's killed a lot of people." Harry said with fierceness in his voice. "And she's gonna pay." He added as an afterthought.

"But Harry, what about the horcruxes? And Voldemort? Are you just going to give that up because Bellatrix killed a few people? This is war, Harry. People have got to die, and its just unfortunate that they had to be on the good side." Ron pleaded. It struck Hermione odd that Ron could say something that meaningful. Or even knew something that meaningful at all.

"I know what I'm doing. It was wrong of me to bring my best friends into this, so I have asked Bill and Fleur to look after you guys," Harry said with a calm certainty.

"You…you're leaving us? HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Hermione raised her voice to that shrill note that cracked Fleurs' porcelain and made the fine hairs stand up on Ron's neck. "We agreed that Ron and I knew what we were getting into when we signed up for this, and we agreed that we'd stay together! We know perfectly well the dangers of this mission and Dumbledore entrusted the secret to not only you, but us as well! Dumbledore meant for us to do this together, and you know that Harry," Hermione's voice got deadly calm. "We have to come Harry, and you know it."

Harry's face impassive, he turned around and stonily walked out of the room

()()()()()()()()

Draco scrambled back to his room as the events before him appeared in slow motion. Bella's dagger went flying, crystals bouncing off everything, the spin of bodies apparating. A scream pierced through his reverie. Thick black smoke engulfed the foyer…. Voldemort had arrived.

_Dear Diary, _

_Today, Buckbeak attacked him. I mean, he _did _provoke him (the stupid git), but a long, thin scratch ran down the length of his arm. It didn't look deep, but I only got so close. His silver hair was swept back on his forehead as he was babbling about stupid things. Buckbeak is NOT a chicken, he is a hippogriff, and Malfoy was overplaying his injury. Madame Pomfrey said it wasn't anything that she couldn't cure completely, but he insisted that he sling his arm for at least another week or so._

Draco stared in bewilderment. Granger actually was writing about him! That was absurd! Good girl Gryffindor Princess was writing about bad boy Slytherin Prince. The thought amused him. He rolled over on his stomach and yawned. Now that he thought about it, she did stand up for him and not that oaf, Hagrid that day. A wave of satisfaction rolled through him. Draco shook his head, _what am I thinking? Am I really happy that goodie-two-shoes Granger stood up for me? Even after all the crap I put her through?_

Draco pushed back his silky white hair as he thought about Granger. She was fierce, loyal, smart, mildly pretty if she would try to look nice like at the Yule Ball, and had sharp wit to match his own. He pondered his thoughts to as why he actually did tease her, beside the fact that she was muggle-born. He really didn't have anything personal against her (except the punch, but he'd accepted that ages ago). Maybe it was because no one else would stand up to him like she did. Maybe it was because she had a mouth on her to make even his mother proud. Or maybe….no, he would not go there.

_Dear Diary, _

_So, Harry was right in his obsession with him. Not that Dumbledore didn't already know, but still. He is actually a tortured soul, I learned after Dumbledore's death. He only has good intentions, but puts his faith in the wrong place. He also was not the one who __**Avada Kedavara**__'d Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower. A plus. I know he has good in him, it was just his upbringing. And possibly the fear for his family from Voldemort._

_Gods, she was good, _he thought. Draco in his sheltered, spoiled life had never thought that anyone, especially someone who was raised as a muggle, could understand him, much less his family problems. But then came the brightest witch of her age, Hermione Granger. And she understood completely.

()()()()()()()()

Hermione's bare feet padded through the white sand towards her best friend Harry. "Harry, can I talk to you?" Hermione spoke in a soft voice, not wanting her friend to go on another irrational fit of anger.

"Yeah, Hermione. I actually want to tell you something."

"Yes?"

"Look, I hope you and Ron can understand, well…I care about you guys too much and I couldn't stand to see anymore of my friends get hurt. I know you guys think I'm putting on the hero act, but it's not an act. I care about you too much to let anyone or thing hurt you. You have to understand when I ask that you stay at the Shell Cottage," Harry said, with a pleading look in his eyes.

"Harry," Hermione stated plainly as day. "We will _not _for the thousandth time, stay behind. You'd have to curse us to a coma before we'd be stopped. And Harry, I know you don't want to do that," Hermione stated.

"If I have to," Harry muttered so soft that Hermione didn't hear a thing.

"Dinner!" Bill called in his deep, booming voice.

()()()()()()()()

"You have failed me for the last time Lucius, Bellatrix." Voldemort scowled.

"But my Lord!" Bellatrix pleaded.

"Nothing more is to be said Bellatrix! Potter is gone, and that is that," Voldemort raised his voice and sent tears to Bellatrix's eyes. "Punishment shall be given to those who deserve it."

Draco stood as rigid as the statue of his grandfather behind his mother. Narcissa spread out her arms in front of him as if to protect him from Voldemorts harsh words.

"He's just a boy!" Narcissa wailed.

"But he accepted and failed. It was not him who killed Dumbledore, but Severus."

"I can redeem myself," Draco's voice didn't waver, but his insides were buzzing.

"Very well. Come in private with me and I shall review your request," Voldemort said with amusement.

()()()()()()()()

Hermione dragged her body to her room. Her feet felt like lead and her head was spinning. "Oi," was all she could manage as she collapsed on the shiny floor, feet from her bed. Harry, who was following her, tenderly picked her up, and laid her in Fleur's guest bed.

"Good night Hermione. Sweet dreams."Harry creeped out of the room, thanking Bill for putting a sleeping draught in Ron and Hermione's food. Once he was past the boundaries of Shell Cottage, he apparated away.

()()()()()()()()

_Dear Diary,_

_Personality: 0_

_Body: 10_

_I am still not quite sure why everyone (girls and I've seen some boys give lustful looks in his direction) is all fallen over him. I mean sure, he's got the body of a Greek god; pale, sculptured muscles, paper white hair, and steely gray eyes, but his personality-YUCK! He's a prat, a git, and he doesn't even treat his own friends nicely! He can't respect anyone that isn't a pureblood, or anyone that isn't a pureblood that follows Voldemort. He's a whinny, suck up, and oh how he infuriates me! He could care less about most things that don't include quidditch, and has an arrogant, conceited outward appearance that I don't understand what those Slytherins love about him. And yet all that I just said, makes me like him a little more._

Draco pounded his head into the wall. _Gods! She's making it so much harder!_ Draco just did not know if he could betray this bushy-haired friend of Potters to Voldemort. He knew what Voldemort was capable of and really did not want her to that same fate. _Maybe Weasley, yeah, and Potter_. But not her. Ever since Draco had first seen the hopelessness in her eyes at Malfoy Manor, he felt a certain possessiveness over her. She really didn't belong to him, she didn't belong to anyone, she was too strong-willed and stubborn for that. But he did feel as if they had some special secret that was just between them, the teasing, the occasional standing up for one another. It just made him feel protective and possessive. He picked up his favorite green quill.

_Dear Hermione's Diary_

_Personality: 7_

_Body: 8_

_You are stubborn in a way that I can respect. You set your mind on something, and go for it. You are open-minded and your judgment is not clouded by prejudices and you are bloody brilliant. You can be prudish, and yet, I am probably the world's biggest git, so who am I to call you prudish. You are loyal to your friends and are supportive. You will probably always be there for your friends. Your rats nest you call hair, well, let's just say that I'd love to tangle my fingers in it. It's the same colour as your eyes, a warm, chocolaty brown. Your teeth are too perfect though, I did rather like them large, but then you had Madame Pomfrey shrink them too small! You're curvy, not too curvy, like Lavender, but not a stick either, like Pansy. The only downside are your feet. They are just too small._

Draco snickered. It was all true. For the most part. He did actually like her feet just the way they were, but he still couldn't help teasing. But it was time to put all the play away. He had a mission.

()()()()()()()()

Hermione woke up refreshed, and scanned the light filled room. Her eyes caught the profile of Ron's stony face. "What's wrong, Ron?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong?! What do you think is wrong, Hermione?" Ron pleaded. He turned to face the sunset again.

Realization dawned on her. Her pink lips formed an O. Anger, hurt, and tears burned through her face, threatening to spill. "How could he do this?" Hermione whispered. If she said it any louder, all her emotions would burst. She got off the bed and tore through the cottage, heading for the beach. Tears streamed down her face, stinging the lips that she was biting. She brought her hand up to wipe away the torrent of tears that flowed from her brown eyes. "How could he?" She kept whispering. She turned her head to the sunrise; it was a beautiful redish-orange. An old rhyme came to her that her Uncle had taught her. _Red skies at morning, sailors take warning_. Well, I'm not a sailor, she thought. But I might end up swearing like one when Harry comes back. She looked back at Shell Cottage; it wasn't even visible now. Hermione took another step into a hole.

She took a sharp intake of breath just as she heard her right ankle crack. Pain consumed her, it shot up her leg like lightning, and her muscles felt like they were stretched the wrong way. Hermione scrunched up her face in agony as she reached for her want. Her face screwed up even more when it wasn't there. She bent over and carefully sat on the gravelly beach. She gently grabbed her leg and tried to pull it out of the hole. Pain sparked a shrill scream.

()()()()()()()()

Draco's ears perked at the scream. Hermione, he thought. He ran his long, pale fingers through his paler hair, and started off in a run.

()()()()()()()()

The salty tears not only came from losing Harry, but also from the shooting pain in her ankle. I'm going to waste away on this beach alone, Hermione thought. She gripped her forehead, tears still running, when the faint crunch of feet on gravel interrupted the soothing crashing of waves. When she looked up, her eyes widened in fear. It was Draco Malfoy.

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**Please review! It's my first, so i would enjoy not having to read ugly, negative reviews (unless you really hate it, then I prefer you not review), but if they're constructive, like ideas, well, then those are welcome.**


	2. Homecoming

**This chapter is dedicated to Stephen Riner :) He is a Ron lover; tsk tsk tsk. So I asked some of my friends at school, and I have decided to torture Ron for a while. Sorry for all you like Stephen, but I really don't care for Ron. So voila and read ahead!**

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How helpless she looked, sitting on the gravelly beach, her wild hair flapping in the breeze. She had her knees hugged up tight to her chest, and her arms over her head, like she was preparing for an earthquake drill. Draco was stumped. Why would she be like this? A twisted ankle doesn't normally lead to a fetal position. Then he realized. She saw him. Seeing your enemy who had sold you out to the Dark Lord just the day before couldn't possibly be good news. So, she cowered in her crouch, something totally unlike the fearless Granger he knew.

For a moment, she looked up at him, with big, brown, tear-stained eyes and whispered, "Please don't hurt me." Draco took those last few strides to reach her.

"I'm not going to hurt you. But you need to come with me," he said with a softness in his voice that she had never heard. She would only have recognized his sneering, cold, formal voice. This one sparked intrigue, and wariness.

"Why, would I ever come with you, Malfoy?" she shot back in between snuffles.

"Because you aren't safe at Shell Cottage anymore," he said, his voice creeping with irritability.

"Why should I trust you? You've chosen sides; you are with your evil father, and V-Voldemort," Hermione stuttered on the Dark Lord's name. She still could not say it with ease like Harry.

"Oh, I think that you don't think that. _He is actually a tortured soul_._ I know he has good in him, it was just his upbringing. And possibly the fear for his family from Voldemort,_" he mocked.

Realization dawned on her features, her wide eyes got even wider, and her mouth dropped. "You READ MY DIARY!" Hermione's face flushed, and she started to stand up to beat the crap out of him, when she collapsed back on the beach. Draco offered a helping hand, but she spat at him. "Don't touch me," she snarled. "What do you want?"

"For you to be safe," he shot back.

"I doubt that. I was wrong. You don't care for anyone but yourself. You just want to sell me out to Voldemort. And you can't blackmail me with that diary either, there is nothing important or meaningful in there anyway," Hermione said, dripping with venom. Draco's heart cracked at that. Maybe she didn't have feelings for him. But what did that matter anyways? He only felt a little connection between their rude remarks. It was nothing.

"Suit yourself. I was going to heal that ankle and bring you somewhere safe with me, but you can crawl back to the Weasley clan and get yourself killed," he said, the crack in his heart making his voice cold.

"Hermione! Hermione! Hey! Who are you?" Ron Weasley was yelling at the tall figure standing above a crouched one. He pulled out his wand and yelled _Stupefy _just as the standing figure _Petrificus Totalus_ed him. His arms snapped to his sides, and he tripped over his own feet when they too came together like magnets. Ron face-planted the grey rocks, frozen in a rigid state as the two people in the distance apparated away.

"GET OFF OF ME! RON! RON!" Hermione screeched as Draco landed on top of her on the plush, grey, carpet of his bedroom. Hermione beat Draco with her fists, pushing at his chest until he rolled off her leg.

"Sorry," he mumbled, slightly distressed that he had caused her more pain. With a swish and flick similar to the wand motions regarding _Wingardium Leviosa, _her ankle snapped back into its rightful position.

"Thanks," she sniffed. Hermione carefully stood up, testing her ankle. When she was sure it would hold her, the majesty and expensiveness of Draco's bedroom caught her eye. He had a king size, four poster bed, with emerald green silk sheets, and a small, leather notebook laying face up on it. Hermione ran over and snatched it. She jumped when she felt Draco's hand on her shoulder.

It's okay. You're safe here. I'll protect you. That is what Draco wanted to say, but instead he said in a flat monotone, "You can have the bed. Just call for a house elf if you want food. The bathroom is by the dresser. Don't try to escape. There are wards around the manor, and more specifically, around my room. I have got to go, but will return by nightfall."

Hermione reached for his sleeve, but it was too late, he had already walked out of the room. Her fingers brushed an invisible wall, one that pulsed a minor shock through her fingertips. _Damn_, she thought, _what is he up to?_ She walked back over to his bed and grabbed her diary, her fingers in her mouth. She flipped through the pages, making sure all was sound when she found a page in green script. _I don't own a green quill._

_Dear Hermione's Diary_

_Personality: 7_

_Body: 8_

_You are stubborn in a way that I can respect. You set your mind on something, and go for it. You are open-minded and your judgment is not clouded by prejudices and you are bloody brilliant. You can be prudish, and yet, I am probably the world's biggest git, so who am I to call you prudish. You are loyal to your friends and are supportive. You will probably always be there for your friends. Your rats nest you call hair, well, let's just say that I'd love to tangle my fingers in it. It's the same colour as your eyes, a warm, chocolaty brown. Your teeth are too perfect though, I did rather like them large, but then you had Madame Pomfrey shrink them too small! You're curvy, not too curvy, like Lavender, but not a stick either, like Pansy. The only downside is your feet. They are just too small._

_That arse! He wrote in my diary!_ Hermione fumed. For as smart as she was, she was slow at processing the thought that he liked her! Hermione threw the diary at the bed with a screech, and stumbled into Draco's dresser.

With a crack, a house elf appeared. "Is Miss Granger alright? Dinny thought she heard Mistress yell," Dinny, Dobby's sister, called. Dinny was dressed in a pink tea cozy, wringing her hands in anticipation of Hermione's answer.

"Erm, yes. I am okay and thank you for asking. I just had a fright," Hermione was horrified that the house elf called her Mistress; it made Hermione feel like she was a cruel slave owner of poor Dinny.

"Are you Her-Hermione Granger? The one that is friends with Harry Potter?" Dinny carefully asked. "Oh, oh, Dinny is not supposed to speak to Mistress unless Mistress speaks to Dinny first! Master will be ashamed!" Dinny took the nearest thing to her-the diary-and started bashing it against her head.

"Oh no. Stop! Stop it Dinny! Stop it this instant!" Dinny looked at Hermione with big watery eyes. "I give you permission to speak freely to me whenever you want."

"Oh, you are much kind, Miss Granger! As kind as the Harry Potter my brother used to talk about!"

"Wait, your brother was Dobby?" Hermione didn't want to pry, but it would be interesting to know if Dobby had any family; much less family that still worked for the Malfoys.

"Yes," Dinny replied solemnly.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" Hermione ran over and hugged Dinny, which was so new, especially from a Master or Mistress, that she stiffened on contact. "Oops, you're probably not used to hugs. But I am sorry about what happened to Dobby."

"Oh thank you very much ma'am. Our whole family misses him, but he was free, and he helped save Harry Potter," Dinny had tears glisten in her disproportional sized eyes. "Would you like to meet them? They would very much like to meet you Miss."

_Sure. Why not? It's not like Malfoy intended on me going anywhere. _"Okay Dinny. Could you call them here," Hermione glanced at the slightly shimmering space in the doorway. "I don't think Malfoy wanted me to leave."

"Of course!" Dinny clapped her hands and in four seconds, four more wrinkly, little house elves appeared. Hermione spent the next hour or so (Draco's room did not come with a clock) talking with Dinah (Dobby's mother), Moge (Dobby's father), Missy (Dobby's sister), and Manny (Dobby's brother). Apparently, the Malfoy's had Moge's ancestors serve them, long before even Abraxas Malfoy was born. Dinah came from the Black household, a dowry for Narcissa when she married Lucius. It turned out that Dinah was a distant cousin of Kreacher, Sirius' old house elf. Dinah's purpose (for the Blacks could have given the Malfoy's a number of gold) was to reproduce with Modge, so Narcissa could have her own house elves, and any more for the Malfoy heir.

"Oh! It is almost dinner time!" Dinah suddenly exclaimed. Everyone turned expectantly to Hermione, waiting for some sort of order.

"Um, yes, very nice meeting the family of Dobby," Hermione said, expecting them to go away. They still stared at her with their large eyes. "You are dismissed." To Hermione's relief, they vanished. She did not want to be the cause of Lucius and Narcissa's late dinner._ Do they even know I'm here?_ Hermione wondered.

Her thoughts wandered back to her diary. _Okay, maybe I had a small crush on him-but who didn't? But why would he write back to me? He hates me! _All those thoughts swirled around in her head. _Why am I here? What was Malfoy talking about when he said, "_Because you aren't safe at Shell Cottage anymore_?" _Hermione got so upset with this questions that she didn't have answers to, she took the nearest thing to her (Draco's pillow) and threw it against the doorway. Smoke curled up in grey tendrils from the blackened silk.

Hermione threw herself in Draco's warm bed, needing to be comforted, as she thought about Ron, and the rest at Shell Cottage.

()()()()()()()()

As the spell that bound Ron wore away, several dark shadows passed over his slowly thawing figure. Half and hour later, Ron got up and headed for Shell Cottage. If the man with Hermione had apparated away, then it would be impossible to track them. He could just go back to the Order to send an Auror after her. Not that he would leave without Ron. Ron slunk off towards the cottage, a 15 minute run now was taking a half hour walk. Soon enough, he could see it. But something was amiss. It seemed to be glowing from the inside. Black shadows danced on the walls.

"Death Eaters," he mumbled, picking up the pace, in hopes to reach his brother and sister-in-law.

"You know where she went! Tell me, or I'll have you crucio'ed into oblivion!" MacNair snarled. He pulled out his stubby wand and sunk it into

Fleur's neck.

"Please! I do not know where 'Ermione went! She ran out of zis house crying, in the early morning, and I 'ave not seen 'er since!" Fleur squeezed her eyes shut as the blackthorn wand pressed harder into her flesh.

"I don't think I believe you. It's just too bad that you had to be pretty," MacNair took her by the hair and threw her on the antique rug just as Ron busted the door in. "Crucio!"

Fleur winced. She expected pain; unbearable, excruciating pain that made you feel like your body was being dipped in acid while being ripped apart. Instead, she opened her eyes to see MacNair's grubby hand pointing his wand towards the door. She turned around to face the screaming body. Ron. Bill's brother.

Ron didn't know what to make of the scene before him. Chairs blasted apart, moving pictures now stationary in their broken frames, charred walls, or Fleur with a wand to her neck. He burst through the door, thinking that Fleur would get the brunt end. Instead, searing pain shocked all the nerve endings in his body. As suddenly as it started, it stopped. Ron was now in a fetal position, his body having recoiled from lack of pain, but he looked up in time to see the stout wizard go down by Fleur. She was stabbing him with her nails, her wand lying in a broken heap by the fireplace. A bloody Bill emerged from the kitchen, looking like he could kill. His scraggly hair was matted with blood to his forehead, and he was breathing heavily underneath his torn shirt.

"Bill!" Ron tried warning his brother of an approaching figure, but in the short span of time that Bill looked away from Fleur, the disfigured man_ Avada Kedavra_'ed him. Ron drew his wand and disarmed his brothers' killer. The wizard stalked through the living room, grabbed Fleur by the wrist and slammed her against the wall, rendering her unconscious. He picked up MacNair, Fleur's attacker, and headed for Ron. Fear enveloped Ron. Bill's murder was finally close enough to recognize. And close enough to smell. Fenrir Greyback. He reeked of rotting meat. Even MacNair cringed.

Ron shouted spell after spell, but they bounced off of MacNair's wand as he used protective spells. Finally, MacNair's companion dropped him and charged forwards with his fist held back. Ron barely had time to think of a spell when Greyback knocked Ron out with his fist.

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He he :) Please Review!


	3. The Prophecies

**This particular chappy is dedicated to my blonde friend Abigayle Huggins. She thought that the phrase 'sod off' meant 'sawed off'.**

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Ron crumpled to the ground in a heap. Fenrir gave a kick to his head with worn-out traveling boots. A shadowy figure stepped from the hallway. "Stop!" he said with a slight waver in his voice. The sight (and smell) of Greyback was enough to repulse anyone.

"_Incarcerous!_" Thick, black ropes shot out of the wand and bound the French girl and her brother-in-law together. "I'm sorry Hermione," he murmured. "_Locomotor Ronald Weasley and Fleur Weasley_!" this time, the two unconscious figures floated upwards about four feet off the ground, at the mercy of Draco's wand. Draco moved his wand like a conductor, directing them to the kitchen table. "_Scourgify!_" Fleur's bloody shirt was returned to its normal, white state, and all traces of blood (and stink) vanished.

"What should we do with the dead one?" Fenrir growled. "Can I have him?"

"No, I will not allow you to present your cannibalism behavior in front of me," Draco said disgusted. "You can present this-secretly-to the rest of the blood-traitors. Leave a note while you're at it. Have it read 'We know where you are'. Yes, do that," Draco would rather give him a proper burial, but since his quest for Voldemort, he must act like he was expected of.

"Very well," MacNair said.

()()()()()()()()

_His bright blue eyes twinkled at her. "Here. You must take these, and record them in your journal."_

"_But why? Dumbledore, shouldn't you have given these to Harry?" Hermione held out two pages of parchment._

"_Just trust me. You are meant to do it. Harry may be the one to cast the spell, but you control the game. Go now," Dumbledore said, suddenly holding her diary in his hands._

"Hermione?"

Hermione woke from a startling vivid dream to Draco tapping her shoulder.

"Hermione, I've some food for you," Draco said gently. "What are these?"

Hermione realized that she was holding parchment; parchment she wasn't holding when she drifted off. "Nothing!" she snatched the papers away from Draco's prying hands. Her heart was about to beat out of her chest.

"Alright then," Draco said warily. "Anyway, I've had Dinny bring up some food."

"Tell her I said thanks," Hermione said, taking care not to let Draco see the contents of Dumbledore's papers while she folded them and put them in her diary she had lain on.

"Sure thing."

The couple proceeded to eat a lavish dinner of steak, green beans, rice, and butterbeer in silence. Draco conjured up one table at first, but when Hermione refused to eat with him, he split it in two. Draco sat next to the door; it had been closed incase any servants, or even his parents, walked by-to make sure Hermione wouldn't escape. Hermione, meanwhile, sat on his bed, with a dinner tray set in front of her. She had barely touched the food, but drank all the butterbeer.

"Why did you bring me here?" Hermione said out of the blue. Draco had expected her not to say anything, so this revelation made him choke on his butterbeer.

"Whaa…?" Draco choked some more.

"Why did you bring me here? What happened at Shell Cottage?" Hermione fired away at him, apparently unconcerned that he was still choking.

Cough. Drink. Swallow. Cough. Drink. Swallow. "I told you. I brought you here so you could be safe. And Death Eaters raided them. The Dark Lord has found out all the Order members, and has sent people to hunt them down. I think he granted Bellatrix to go after her niece and husband, um, MacNair and Greyback were at Shell Cottage," he said a little sheepishly. "Yaxley and Dolohov went for Kingsley, Travers, Rowle, and the Carrows are after the rest of the blood-traitors," Draco stated.

Hermione gasped. The Weasley's were like a second family to her. "So, why did you pick me to live?" The answer hung in her head, but she didn't want to believe it. Neither did he.

"Have you read your diary lately?" Draco asked, afraid of the answer.

"Yes," Hermione whispered. "But I don't want to believe it."

"I don't want to either, but it's true. Just trust me," Draco said, almost pleadingly.

Those two words had it in for Hermione. "Trust you? Trust you!" she said, her voice rising along with the shade of red her face was turning. "You sold us out to You-Know-Who in this very house! You've called me 'Mudblood', you've insulted Dumbledore and Hagrid, you, you, and you've hated me from day one! Why should I trust you?" Hermione screeched.

"You should trust me because you could use Veritaserum on me, and I would tell you exactly what I said in that book. I wasn't the one who pulled the curse on Dumbledore. You can't blame me for treating you how I did. It was the way I was brought up. Thinking different rights and wrongs. I actually saved you from Shell Cottage, didn't I?" Draco's voice was rising now. "If you were still there, you would have been Greybacks' dinner! I couldn't have protected you in front of them!" he had said the wrong thing by mentioning he was there.

Hermione reached for a wand she didn't have. So instead, she pushed the tray over, and stormed over to Draco. He closed his eyes and winced. He would take whatever she gave him. He deserved it. Instead, she opened the door. She walked back behind him and swung her fist, aiming at the door. Draco turned around just in time to get caught in the eye, and the back of his head slammed into the invisible wall. Loud cracking and popping noises emitted from the point where his head met the wall of electricity. The odor of burnt hair filled the room. Spikes of blue light ran down his whole body, shaking him off of the wall. Hermione felt very little remorse at knocking him into the doorway. He was, after all, the one who watched what had unfolded at the cottage. The only thing she could think of now was that the Dark Lord and his parents would get suspicious if Draco didn't return.

Grabbing his wand from the table, she healed any internal injuries, and rendered him conscious. She needed him to keep people out of questioning the whereabouts of herself and keep people out of the room.

"I guess I deserved that," he said shakily, rolling over to get on his knees. "Look, I'm sorry-"

"Sod off Malfoy," Hermione said her voice calmer. "I just wish to be alone."

"Listen, I…"

"No, you listen. The contents of my diary have nothing to do with you or your prying eyes. I want to be alone."

"But…"

"No! I said sod off Malfoy! Leave me alone."

"Fine," he said, disenchanting the doorway, and leaving. Hermione had to suppress a giggle when she saw a circular patch of burnt hair the size of her fist.

()()()()()()()()

Before Draco had left to return home, he had personally escorted Ron and Fleur Weasley to Avery's home. Voldemort left him in charge of questioning, after what happened with Bellatrix to Hermione and the rest. So when Ron woke up, he saw an exquisite chandelier dangling over a mahogany dinner table.

"Oi, I 'ave ze most 'orrible 'eadache!" Fleur moaned. She rolled over, unconsciously rolling both of them off of the couch.

"What was that?" came the sharp voice of Mrs. Avery. "Ah. Our little blood-traitors have woken up," she said with a heavy Russian accent. "The Dark Lord wishes my husband to question you, but seeing as he is away, I don't think the Dark Lord will mind if I take the pleasure." She lifted her wand and they both sat up. Slowly she stalked around them, as if eyeing them up to see who is the fattest. "I shall take you first," she pointed to Ron. His face drained of all color. "I do remember the Dark Lord mentioning a red-headed boy." With a downward slash, the ropes that bound Ron together fell away. "_Petrificus Totalus!"_ She petrified Ron so he couldn't escape, then levitated him to an empty room down a dark green hall.

()()()()()()()()

What is this? Hermione thought as she opened the parchment handwritten by Dumbledore himself.

_For the one that is perceived as a spy, he will, unfortunately hold an untimely death. But not before helping the offspring of his love on his quest. _

_I am not a liar, but do merely tell truth where it should not be told. Inside me resides one of the three symbols of power that the Dark Lord know not._

_What he seeks to use as a weapon of destruction will never truly be his. His own life is being chipped away as he seeks it._

_The Boy Who Lived's counterpart, the chess piece of opposite sides, controls what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named searches for. He controls a weapon of mass power, yet does not know it._

_She who is named after a star shines as brightly as one can, but in a darker light. She has power the Dark Lord does not. She does not know it; her passion for him out shines everything else._

_The one who was trusted, loved by all, betrays a long time friend. The friend will still fight for them, even though they don't deserve it. The person shall be used as bait, and shall lure the friend to doom._

_An object with power to match that of the Philosopher's Stone resides right under a place of great force. The guardian, white as a Patronus, strut over the grounds, using their force (similar to that of a Patronus) to shield the power so that it lay undetected by witches or wizards._

Hermione copied it exactly as it was written into her journal. It must be some kind of prophecy. Or prophecies to be exact. She thought. The sound of her scratching Draco's quill could be heard until an explosion came from below.

"NO! I SHALL NOT STAY WITH THE PARKINSONS!" she heard Draco yell.

"Draco my dear, you must listen to us. Please, it's for your own safety!" Narcissa pleaded.

"No! The people I love are here at Malfoy Manor; it's my home anyway! We've put up with the Dark Lord this long, why can't I put up with him a litter longer?" Draco ranted.

Hermione had heard the 'people I love are here' part, and blushed at the thought that she might be included.

"Listen to your mother boy! What you bargained with the Dark Lord is too much. We believe that you don't have the heart to do it, just like you didn't have the heart to kill Dumbledore." Lucius shot back.

That last part struck a nerve in Draco. "Listen," he said through his teeth, "I am staying here where I am needed. I don't even see why it has to be the Parkinson's!"

"Draco darling, you and Pansy have known each other since you were babies!" Narcissa cried. "It's been about fifteen years!"

"Fifteen years too many," Draco muttered.

"Do not talk of them that way Draco," his father scolded. "They are a respectable pureblood family and your mother and I agree that Pansy would make a suitable daughter-in-law," his voice softened on that last part.

"WHAT?"

"Yes, Draco. For a time now, your father and I have been looking for wife for you. Pansy Parkinson would be our first choice, since you two know each other so well; Daphne Greengrass, or even her sister Astoria…"

"Mum! Astoria's only fourteen!"

"Yes, I am aware of that. But you know, your father is several years older than me," Narcissa said.

"Millicent Bulstrode…"

"Hm…she's a bit, um, mannish," his mother finished. "But we do agree that Pansy would be first choice."

"Just go Draco," Lucius said. He clapped his hands and Moge and Manny appeared holding suitcases that were twice as big as they were.

"Here, let me get those," Draco manually picked up the suitcases from the small House Elves. "And father, you do know that it's around ten at night. I don't think the Parkinson's would appreciate me appearing at their doorstep at this late hour."

"Draco! That is what the House Elves are for!" Narcissa cried.

"It's fine Mother. The House Elves need to be treated with a little more respect," Draco stated stiffly.

Hermione heard Draco's stand for the House Elves. Maybe S.P.E.W. will live on, she thought.

"First you go softhearted for old men, now you're softhearted for the servants. See Draco? This is why you need to be with purebloods that raise themselves with dignity, and know their place in society. This is why you need to go stay with the Parkinson's!" Lucius stubbornly said.

"No, I will not go father," Draco said calmly. He turned his head to see his mother sobbing in her robes.

"Sshh now. I know you love your son, but it is his final word," Lucius walked over to Narcissa and wrapped his arm over her shoulder.

Draco looked away and hauled his bags up the marble staircase back up to his bedroom. Hermione heard his grunts and the scraping of his suitcases against the marble floor approaching the room. She snapped her diary shut and threw it under the bed in a panic. She hopped on the bed and crossed her legs, pretending to check her nails as Draco dropped the bags and whipped out his wand.

"_Disstaticly,"_ he muttered. As the wards went down, he tugged the bags the remainder of the way into his room. As he looked up after stowing them in his closet, he saw genius Hermione doing something as vain as checking her nails. One perfectly waxed eyebrow slowly raised in questioning.

"What are you doing?" he inquired.

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**Please review! Draco wants you to review! Hermione wants you to review! I want you to review!**


	4. Deep Dark Secrets

**Hello! I hope you enjoy this chapter! This one is dedicated to Stephanie Creach, and what the heck! Why not make it to Stephanie McQueen, Anne Holland, Alex Jenkins and any of you who would have happened to have read City of Glass by Cassandra Clare!**

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"M-me?" Hermione stuttered looking around for some non-existent person he might be talking to.

"No Hermione," he drawled, his voice dripping sarcasm. "I'm talking to Potter over there knitting some booties."

Hermione nervously glanced towards a silver reclining chair besides the window draped in green and silver silk. "Oh, well, as you might see, _I _am doing nothing more than checking my nails," she replied all innocent like. Her voice turned all babyish and sugary like Pansy's when she wanted something other than notes from Draco. "I think I chipped the paint on one. Would you happen to have some nail polish remover, and some red and gold paint?" Now her voice turned sly. "Or maybe if you don't have any, I could borrow your wand to conjure me some?"

"I don't know what you're getting at Hermione, but no, I have neither, nor am I going to let you use my wand." He said, saddened by the fact that she would still choose red and gold over green and silver.

One word. It took just one word to startle Hermione Granger who was always two steps ahead of the game. "You said my name," she accused.

"Yes, but don't I always call you by your name?" Draco said confusedly.

"No, you've either called me 'Mudblood' or Granger," she spat.

"Well, let's see, that 'M' word you used is a bit degrading I might say so myself, even if I did call you that, and for it I'm sorry. And Granger is your name, isn't it Hermione?" Draco said matter-of-factly.

"You said it again," Hermione said her jaw dropping with her finger.

"What? Hermione?"

"Yes," she said in barely a whisper.

"Do you want me to stop?" he questioned. He thought he could get on her good side by calling her by her first name, apparently though, it was getting him on her bad side.

"No, it's just that we've always called each other Malfoy and Granger. I never imagined that you and I would be on a first name basis."

"Would you like to be?"

"Yes," she murmured, barely audible. "Very much."

"If this is going to work, then you need to call me Draco, _Hermione_," he said, putting emphasis on her name.

"Okay, _Draco_," she drew out his name; it was sweet as it rolled off her tongue. Saying his name gave her a certain excitement, like it was taboo.

"So, back to my original question Hermione, what were you doing?" his question caught her off guard.

"Hm?"

"What were you doing before I walked back into my room?"

Hermione was debating on whether or not to tell him the truth. If he didn't care about the diary anymore, he might just think that she was writing silly things in there. Then again, most of her previous 'silly things' were about him which inevitably led to their newfound acquaintance, so he might be interested about other things she had to say about him. Better to be safe than sorry.

"I was rummaging through your belongings," she lied, only slightly better than before, but enough to convince Draco.

His eyes widened in a panic. He comically jumped into the air, swinging his head back and forth before running to his drawers. If she found out about his request with Voldemort, she'd murder him in cold blood. He would never be able to glean information about the mission Dumbledore left Harry. He had to build a friendly relationship with her (but oh, how he secretly wanted more of a romance) so she would open up; he wouldn't go as low as using dark magic on her.

His underwear drawer rattled open. If she thinks I've some embarrassing secret instead of a horrible secret, it'd be much better to check my armoire, he thought. He riffled through neatly folded stacks of his green and silver boxers, pretending to search for something.

Hermione got off the bed with a slight creak and walked up behind him. "I didn't know you had snakes on your boxers!" Hermione snickered in Draco's unsuspecting ear.

Draco jumped, nearly spilling the contents of the drawer on Hermione.

"Oh, well, yeah," he said trying to have a calm demeanor, as if having cartoon animated snakes on his underwear wasn't embarrassing.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stuffed them into the drawer.

"So, you know a secret of mine, tell me a secret of yours," Draco pursued.

Hermione tensed. "Isn't knowing enough of a secret?" she asked guardedly.

"Yes, but you already knew the feelings mutual. Tell me something I don't know," Draco said, feeling the momentum build up at Hermione's caution.

Hermione's biggest secret of all wasn't even hers to give. So instead, she decided to riddle him.

"_For the one that is perceived as a spy, he will, unfortunately hold an untimely death. But not before helping the offspring of his love on his quest_," she recited in an eerie, zombie-like voice.

Draco's subconscious remembered this, but seeing as she put on a show, he took little meaning to what she said.

"No really, come on," he begged.

"Okay, let's see," she thought about something only mildly embarrassing. "Um, my deep dark secret is that I was never really good at lying."

For some reason, this didn't surprise Draco. He dropped the subject.

"So, it's pretty late already, do you want the bed?" he said kind of shyly.

This startled Hermione. "Where are you going to sleep? Not with me I hope," she said a bit too quickly.

Draco's pride was hurt. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"What couch?"

Draco swished his wand. "That couch."

Hermione was awakened to a shrill scream and a dull thump. She bolted straight up with the green comforter wrapped around her, looking for the source. Narcissa had blasted the door open when she was shocked when she tried to knock. The sight of an unknown girl sleeping in Draco's bed and Draco on a couch in front of the door set Narcissa off. Draco, startled by his mother's shrill scream, rolled off the couch and fell to the floor in a tangle of blankets.

"WHO IS THIS?" Narcissa screamed at Draco from outside the room.

Draco's head buzzed in a panic. "Uh…uh…she's…um…she's…uh…" he was lost for words.

"I'm his girlfriend!" Hermione shouted. She didn't know whether she said it because she wanted it to be true, or because she needed an excuse. Draco's pale eyebrows shot up in astonishment and Narcissa nearly fainted. The young man gained composure far sooner than his mother.

"Erm, why yes mum. I would like to introduce my girlfriend," he stated formally whilst helping his mother up after ridding himself of the blankets. "_Disstaticly_," he muttered, bringing down the wall of electricity that kept Hermione in.

"Lucius!" Narcissa screamed. Hermione could hear the uneven thumping of his feet and the labored breathing as he ran up the marble staircase and down the hallway. He appeared in the doorway panting with his hands on his knees.

"How can you call yourself a Death Eater if you can't even run up stairs without getting winded," Narcissa snapped. Lucius finally had the breath to look up at Hermione who was getting out of bed to stand by Draco.

"Who must you be to sneak into my home without my knowledge?" Lucius bellowed.

"Father, she's my girlfriend. I took her here. You don't need to know everything," Draco snapped.

"Draco, come to my study alone, please. We have important matters to discuss. Narcissa, escort the girl to the patio to eat," Lucius said with an air of command.

"Who are you exactly?" Narcissa said, studying her features.

"I think I know you," Lucius started. "Yes, you're that Granger girl, Potter's friend." Lucius said with obvious distaste. "Very well then," he said, making no small effort to be polite, "Narcissa please."

"Come!" she snapped at Hermione.

Hermione had a cold terror wash over her. She did not know who was more terrifying. Lucius who was magically, (and physically) stronger than herself or his equally snobby wife Narcissa, who was as cold as ice, and could be just as sharp. She also didn't know who was more terrified for; Draco who would probably get the punishment of a lifetime for 'dating' a Mudblood, or herself who would probably be poisoned at tea time.

Draco silently followed his father wondering if wizards would ever get to see a Bogart's true form for Hermione Granger had been the one to claim that they were dating! Lucius ushered Draco into his study, pictures of pureblood wizards were hung on the walls, gossiping with one another, and the left wall was covered with musty, old books. Right as Lucius stormed in, the Malfoy's ancestors grew silent.

"When did you start dating her?" Lucius prompted, pulling out his leather swivel chair behind his cluttered desk.

"Erm…" Draco did not know how to answer this. The truth was 3 minutes ago. But if Narcissa asked Hermione the same question, who knew what she'd say, then if Narcissa and Lucius had different times, they'd be in loads of trouble. "Why do you ask?"

"There are things happening Draco. Winds of change. Your mother insists that we have a plan."

"A plan for whom? For what?" Draco was getting confused.

"Cissy believes that the Dark Lord will fall. I did not agree, but now I think I am starting too. She wanted you to be able to live in a free world without the Dark Lord in comfort," Lucius hesitated, waiting for his impassive son to reply.

"What do you mean 'in comfort'?" Draco asked, truly confused now.

"The Ministry won't take kindly to anyone who served the Dark Lord, so Cissy devised a plan, a marriage to someone on Potter's side; but I could not see my son wed a Gryffindor. Better yet, to a muggleborn, which is like saying, 'I've changed my prejudiced ways, I'll marry a muggleborn'. That was the best way, but neither of us could have the Malfoy heir be half-blood. So we looked around and discovered that the Parkinson's are neutral in this war. This was more than we could have hoped for. A family friend, someone you knew to marry, and a pureblood!" Lucius couldn't contain the excitement in his voice.

"So that's the real reason you wanted me to go there?" Draco said.

"Yes, but if you're dating Potter's friend Granger, a muggleborn to boot, that will work out even better! Well, for your status I mean. You could always donate to Pansy for your child-"

Draco cut Lucius off. He was appalled at what his father was suggesting. "Father!" he scolded.

"Anyway, keep what's-her-name interested, at least until we see about who's winning this war," Lucius got an evil gleam in his eye. "Your mother personally wants the Dark Lord to fall, but I, oh I…" he trailed off. "Promise me Draco. Promise me you'll keep Granger close."

Draco shakily reached out his arm and met his father's. "Deal."

Narcissa led the way, down the marble staircase and through the foyer. Memories of pain rushed back to Hermione. _She was writhing, screaming, begging for mercy as Bellatrix merrily tortured Hermione on the whereabouts of Godric Gryffindors sword._

"Hurry up! I do not like stragglers," Narcissa piqued.

Hermione blinked, then followed the stern lady out glass French doors and along a wide, flagstone pathway leading out into a hedge-maze. The hedges were about waist height, so she could easily see the wrought-iron table with matching chairs under a neat yellow and white umbrella. Hermione had to keep her eyes on Narcissa who could probably navigate this blindfolded. She stopped at a little iron gate with rosebushes alternating with hedges on either side. She opened the gate and stepped onto the patio, pulling out a chair for herself, but not showing the same courtesy to her son's 'girlfriend'.

"Sit," Narcissa waved her hand at the empty chair. Hermione sat down, trying to keep a straight back and have proper etiquette around the snobby woman.

"What do you want for breakfast? It's about ten, so perhaps brunch?" Narcissa made two sharp claps and Manny appeared.

"What would Mistress be wanting?" he squeaked.

"Hermione darling, what would you like?"

"Um…can I just have a cheese omelet and a glass of pumpkin juice?"

"I'll have a caviar omelet, low fat cheese, a side of strawberries and watermelon with red wine."

()()()()()()()()

"WHERE IS THE GIRL?" Maia Avery shouted. "I know you know where your little Mudblood friend is, so why don't you just tell me and it will save you the pain!"

"No!" Ron spat. "I do not know where Hermione is, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you!" He struggled to sit up right. Maia had un_petrified _him and unceremoniously dumped him on a cold, concrete floor. She _Crucio_'d on the whereabouts of Hermione. He didn't know what Voldemort would want with her, but apparently she knew something. Mrs. Avery kept asking if she told him any sort of riddle.

"LIES! _CRUCIO!"_ she screamed. She was just as violent as Bellatrix, only not as psycho.

"Sh-she ran from the cottage crying; I don't know about what, but she went. A-a little while later, I went looking for her on the beach, and s-saw her disaparate with s-some man," Ron cowered, expecting more pain. He had already told her this a hundred times, but she wouldn't listen.

"Fine!" she snarled. "If you want to stick with your pathetic excuse, I'll bring in reinforcements."

_Thank gods that I'm not being tortured. I already know about the Horcruxes, and I don't think Hermione's worth it. Voldemort's downfall yes, but not her._ Ron knew he was being selfish, but he couldn't take it if she brought in reinforcements.

"Lorelei!" A beautiful, slender girl of 17 walked in. She had long, black hair in wavy rivulets running down her back. Her eyes were the same shade of green as Harry's. Nice on him, beautifully accenting on her. She had lush, full red lips pulled back in a smile framing white teeth. Her legs were a mile long, walking on her toes in seven inch heels. She was wearing a strapless shirt-red in color- with a gold mini-skirt underneath.

"Whoa," Ron's eyes bugged out.

"I think my daughter here can change your mind about what you want to tell me."

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**Please Review (or I'll set Lorelei on you! even if that isn't the worst thing possible :p)!**


	5. The Goldfish

**I am sorry for not making it clear when I was changing pov's or settings. Dang astericks don't work here. P.S.-to Stephen Riner for the albino crocodiles, and Lorelei making fun of Ron ;)**

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"So Hermione darling," Narcissa said in a tone of fake sweetness. "Has Draco showed you the Manor yet?"

"No," she replied. "No he hasn't."

"Oh what a shame," Draco's mother said with a forced niceness. "He should really show you the library; I've heard you enjoy reading-no?"

"Yes actually I love reading," Hermione said surprised that the Malfoy's would have something like a library-none of them seemed the reading type.

"Oh, here he comes!" Narcissa looked away from Hermione to greet Draco. "Do join us! You can sit in-between us."

"Yes, do sit _Draco_," Hermione said, making her voice all sugary.

He lifted an eyebrow in question.

"Here is you food Mistress," Manny said, lifting the trays off his head and putting them on the glass table at the same height.

"Dismissed," Narcissa waved him away.

"Now Hermione darling, you really must eat. Can't have Draco's girlfriend be scrawny."

Hermione gave a feeble laugh at Narcissa's crude attempt at humor.

Draco slipped his hand to her right thigh as she was about to spoon some omelet into her mouth. When his hand made contact with her bare leg under her T-shirt and shorts, she froze up. He gave a reassuring rub, and the fork continued its journey to Hermione's mouth. This went unnoticed by Narcissa; purposely or not we'll never know. Hermione finished her meal, all the while Draco constantly rubbing her thigh and giving her small smiles making her feel warm inside.

"Oh wait dearies! You must show her the library!" Narcissa ate like a bird, therefore she still had half her omelet left and the watermelon.

"Okay mother," Draco held out his hand. He could get used to being Hermione's boyfriend even if it was just a pretense. He'd probably never let her know he wanted it to be real. He held out his arm like he saw in muggle movies when his parents weren't home. "Shall we Hermione?"

Stunned by his politeness, she warily took his arm. "We shall."

()()()()()()()()

Lorelei walked in after her mother left. Her hips swayed and she pulled her index finger towards herself, signaling Ron to come to her.

_Damn, she's sexy!_ Ron lustfully held her piercing gaze, and then as if in a trance, stood up and walked over to her. He inhaled her scent; exotic fruits and freshly fallen rain. She was new, exciting, and different from Hermione's warm vanilla and sugar.

Lorelei put her hands on his shoulders, restraining him from coming closer. "You're mine," she whispered. Her voice was low and husky. Then she reached in and started attacking Ron's mouth with hers. His lips were cracked, and slightly bloody, but that turned on Lorelei all the more. "I think it's sexy that you take my mother's torture like a man."

She moved her hands moved behind his head and down his back. She pulled him closer and moaned into his mouth when he grabbed her arse.

()()()()()()()()

"What's up with all the peacocks?" Hermione asked when Draco showed her to the library.

"You know, I'm not quite sure. My ancestors have taken a liking to albinos; and my father fancies peacocks. I believe my grandfather Abraxas liked albino crocodiles. I am personally quite glad that he died and the crocodiles were removed," he shuddered, making Hermione laugh. "No seriously, they'd lurk around the hedge garden and you'd never know what you'd find around the corner. They are quite vicious too," Draco lifted his shirt to reveal two short scars on his side. "I was running and tripped over his tail when I was younger. He turned around and just kind of snapped me."

"Oh that's horrible," Hermione said, gazing over his pale body and even whiter scars. _Gods that is sexy._ She cautiously reached out her hand and touched the ropy scars.

Draco shivered at her touch despite her warm fingers. "We should go in."

"Er, yes." She slowly drew her hand away from his stomach and walked in. Books lined the walls, floor to ceiling with shorter shelves in the middle of the room. "Oh its amazing Draco. I love it," _And you_, she thought.

"Over here we have a special edition of _Hogwarts A History_."

This excited Hermione to no end.

"Really? Where?" She was eagerly scanning the shelves for her beloved book when Lucius barged in.

"Severus is dead," he came in panting.

Draco twisted around to see his father bent over looking many years older. "What?" he took a sharp intake of breath. His godfather couldn't be dead. He couldn't. He just couldn't. Severus Snape could not be dead. How? When? Why?

It seemed that Lucius read his thoughts (which is precisely what he did) because he said, "He appeared to have something the Dark Lord did not, so in order for him to posses it, he killed him. He set Nagini on him. It happened yesterday, but the news just reached us."

"Oh Draco," Hermione started. She knew that Draco had looked up to Professor Snape in school and he had been his godfather.

"Now I know what it's like to be Potter. Losing those close to you to Voldemort," Draco said his voice hard. He had trouble keeping his tears from falling. "And it's not going to happen anymore." His steely gaze traveled over his disheveled father, his thin, spindly mother, and landed on the beautiful witch with tears welling up in her eyes.

()()()()()()()()

She was in a black dress that was too big in the chest area; she borrowed it from his mother. It had sweeping sleeves and a black broom skirt similar to his aunts. Her face was scrubbed clean of any make-up. Her natural beauty shone out. Her hair was back in two plaits and she was holding hands with him.

He was dressed in his black suit, the one he took a liking to in 6th year. He had on his Hogwarts robes with his green and silver Slytherin tie around his neck. His face was solemn, dark circles around his gray eyes, the only color in his pallid face. He had been locked away in his room, crying into her shoulder. She understood. His parents didn't. They were mourning a family friend. He was mourning a trusted, close friend who helped him through Hogwarts.

The four of them, Hermione in Draco's arms, Narcissa in Lucius's, stood at the edge of the hedge maze where a tombstone with a snake wrapped around it sat. It had been placed upon a long mound of dirt, signaling Severus Snape's resting place. Voldemort had granted them the body, but was disgusted that they have a burial for one who had power that he did not. The two couples said their dues to the one-time Hogwarts Headmaster, Head of Slytherin House, and Potions and DADA teacher. As the sun set in beautiful reds and oranges, Lucius and Narcissa left for dinner. Draco was about to lead Hermione away when a white stag bounded over the hedges, not touching the ground.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked.

"Hermione," the stag said in Harry's excited voice. "I found what was in the snitch! Xenophilius was right! The old bloke! Now all there is is the Elder wand! By the way, if you haven't heard, Snape died. I think it was him who sent the doe. Yes! Yes it was! Because he loved my mother, and-and her patronus was probably a doe, because can you really see Snape with a doe patronus?" his voice trailed off along with the stag that disappeared.

Suddenly, the first two lines that Dumbledore had given her rushed back.

_For the one that is perceived as a spy, he will, unfortunately hold an untimely death. But not before helping the offspring of his love on his quest. _

_I am not a liar, but do merely tell truth where it should not be told. Inside me resides one of the three symbols of power that the Dark Lord know not._

"Oh. My. God." Those were prophecies! Snape was the spy and he died, but not before helping Harry, the son of his love Lily! And the Snitch contained the Resurrection Stone; one of the Hallows that Voldemort knew nothing about!

"What was that all about?" Draco asked, confused by what he just heard.

"Oh, nothing," she said, barely able to contain her excitement.

()()()()()()()()

Ron was sitting across from Lorelei, as much as he wanted to sit next to her, he wouldn't be able to see her, so he sat across from her. The table was set with table cloth that was old and antique lace with silver candlesticks adorning the center. Mrs. Avery sat at the head of the table in what looked like a throne, while Ron sat on her left across from her daughter. He threw lustful gazes towards Lorelei who ate like a hippogriff. He barely ate himself, too busy drooling at her and playing footsie.

"M-more wine sir?" the young house elf asked. Maia had put Amortentia in his drink; it was sure that he liked her daughter, but just to make sure that he didn't go back to his Mudblood, she wanted to heighten his desire for Lorelei.

"Yeah whatever," Ron said dismissively. He took a sip of the wine and suddenly, the need to touch Lorelei was overwhelming. She saw the evil glint in his eye and excused herself, followed by Ron.

()()()()()()()()

"Ugh, mother, how long do I have to pretend that the blood-traitor is actually attractive? I mean, have you seen him? Red hair, even redder face? And those freckles? Seriously, no one has freckles on their chest except him. He's not even remotely cute. I mean, the last boy, what's-his-face, he was at least decent looking," Lorelei complained after Ron had been put down with a sleeping draught.

"Lorelei! I know you do not prefer him, but the Dark Lord needs him to reveal what the Mudblood knows! And you need to convince him! You're half veela for heaven's sakes! Surely you can put up with him a little while longer, just until the Dark Lord calls," Maia snapped.

"Very well mother. But for the record, his kisses are slobbery and amateur; a total turn off."

()()()()()()()()

Yellow rays of sun peeked into the bedroom. Hermione of course, was already up and about around the room, tidying things up for Draco. Draco of course, was still sleeping on his conjured couch with one arm draped over the side. After the burial of Severus Snape, they went back inside and while Draco was taking a shower, Hermione wrote in her diary, several pages after the prophecies.

_Dear Diary,_

_Dumbledore gave me prophecies and so far two have come true! Professor Snape has died, and Harry found the Resurrection Stone in the Snitch! Today is also my second morning in Malfoy Manor and I have so far managed to make myself Draco's 'girlfriend'. Narcissa walked in on us sleeping, so I just kind of blurted it out. I don't know how Draco's taking this relationship; it is after all, just a hoax. I mean I want it to be real, but I was never good at Legilimency so I don't know what Draco thinks. I still worry about Ron. I'm not exactly sure what happened at Shell Cottage, but I do hope that Ron, Bill, and Fleur are okay. Even if I don't like him that way, he's still a friend. Right now, I'm wondering how long I'll stay here. If I'll ever see Harry and Ron again. If Voldemort will fall. There are too many 'ifs'. If Draco would ever admit his feelings aloud…_

"Good morning," Draco yawned.

Hermione looked up from rummaging through his drawers.

"Morning sleepy-head," she chirped.

"I was thinking…"

"That must have taken a lot of brain power," she retorted, getting back to her old Hermione-ish ways, trying to keep the topic off of Snape.

He rolled his eyes. "I was thinking that you should come to dinner with me," he said. "I mean, we _are _dating." He grinned wolfishly.

"Where at?"

"Le Poisson Rouge," he stated.

"The Goldfish?" Hermione asked, giggling.

"Yes, yes. Despite the humorous name, it is probably the best French restaurant here," he said. "And probably the most expensive," he added as an after thought.

"You are such a prat Draco Malfoy. You do not need to spend excessive amounts of money on me," she said with conviction.

"Yes I do. Malfoy's only deserve the best my sweet, and Le Poisson Rouge is the best," he smirked. He purposely included her as a Malfoy, for he wanted it to be true so badly it hurt in his chest like an ache.

Hermione did not catch that and thought he was referring to himself. "You are such a git!" she said and rolled her eyes.

"No really Hermione! You deserve to be pampered, and pampered you shall be. Now that my parents are aware that you are here, I'll let down the door ward, but remember, there are dozens more around the house. I've places to be throughout the day, but at seven o'clock I expect you to be dressed up for dinner," he stated. "_Disstaticly."_ And with that, he apparated away.

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**Please review!**


	6. The Date

**Hello my readers! This particular chapter isn't dedicated to anyone-yet. If I think of someone I'll fix this saying who. And a forewarning; our favorite couple will get drunk! Nothing bad is going to happen though. Just thought I'd tell you!**

**Read and Review!**

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Later that evening Hermione was humming a tune in Draco's shower. It was about 6 o'clock; she wasn't for sure because he didn't have a clock in his room. Earlier, she had walked into his wardrobe just to snoop, but to her astonishment had found a myriad of pretty dresses in a variety of colors. The matching shoes were underneath. Since Draco had technically kidnapped her, she really didn't have any personal belongings except what was in her beaded bag. After thoroughly looking at all the dresses, she decided on a modest, Slytherin-green dress to wear to dinner. Its short sleeves hung off her shoulders and it gently flared out at the waist. The torso felt like silk-she couldn't be for sure-but the skirt looked like gossamer. She rummaged around some drawers too and found a pretty pearl necklace with matching earrings. _They match his eyes_, she thought. Hermione had set this out on his immaculately made bed and headed for the bathroom.

With a crack, Dinny arrived in Draco's bathroom, talking to the figure in the shower. "Miss," Dinny hesitantly called. "Miss Hermione, Master Draco requested you meet him in the foyer in fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes?" she shrieked. She turned off the water and grabbed a towel, almost knocking the small elf in her hurry.

"Crap," she muttered when she realized her wand was at Shell Cottage. She hurriedly dried herself off and slipped into the dress. She took the silver pin that was with the jewelry and pulled her damp hair back. She hung the pearls around her neck and on her ears and applied a little make-up which, big surprise, she found in the vanity drawer. She hopped out the door, trying to put on the strappy heels.

Dinny stared after the beautiful witch that her master loved. _He is very lucky to have her_, she thought, then apparated away to the kitchens.

()()()()()()()()

Draco's eyes bugged out when he saw Hermione; strikingly beautiful in the green dress. He couldn't help but smirk though when she stumbled down the stairs in the too tall heels. He saw her blush to her ears and that's when he noticed all the silvery pearls that adorned her. His heart swelled with longing for the Gryffindor princess who would wear green and silver, even though he supplied plenty of dresses in golds and reds. She gripped the handrail with great force, and slowly made her way downstairs.

_How very eloquent of me_, she mentally kicked herself for stumbling down the stairs. _Draco has probably dated loads of girls who could walk down stairs in heels._ She felt her blush spread across her face. _Who am I to kid? He is probably ashamed to be my boyfriend, even if it is for show. I mean, he's probably regretting that he didn't just take me back to Shell Cottage and let me die._ Hermione looked down at a smirking Draco in a black suit. _Oh, I'm going to die of embarrassment. I don't know anything about fancy restaurants._ In all of her years of reading varying subjects, manners and etiquette never came up. Once she started school at Hogwarts she'd assume that she'd end up with Ron and the Weasleys who were very informal. Never in her wildest, okay in some dreams later on in life, did she think of eating out with Draco Malfoy at a fancy French restaurant.

"Hermione you look beautiful," Draco said in earnest when she walked up to him.

Her face reddened even more-if it was possible-and she stared at the floor, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Shall we?" he held out his arm like he had done with no other girl.

"We shall," she murmured. She linked her arm in his and with a crack, they appeared at the doors of Le Poisson Rouge.

Two gold columns with intricately carved fish swimming around them greeted the couple as they stood on the marble staircase leading into the restaurant. _I feel like I'm going into a courthouse,_ she thought. Draco eagerly led her up the stairs, and opened the door.

"After you mademoiselle," Draco purred in a French accent.

"Merci Monsieur," Hermione said back, in her English accent. What she saw astonished her. Behind the main desk where the maitre-d welcomed guests was a beautiful koi pond underneath a cascading waterfall. A quaint brown bridge led over the pond to what seemed straight into the waterfall. He was escorting people on different sides of it; right for smoking, left for non-smoking. When Hermione moved closer, she noticed that they weren't koi at all but goldfish! "I see where this place got its name."

"Bonjour Monsieur! C'est moi Draco Malfoy. J'ai réservations ici,'' Draco said in his perfect French accent.

"Oui, ce monsieur droit chemin," the maître said.

"Watch this," he whispered to Hermione.

The maitre-d pulled a wand out of the desk and waved it at the waterfall. The water split on either side of the stream of blue light emitting from the wand until it appeared to go around an invisible arch, tall enough to fit Draco of 6 feet. Hermione gazed on in wonder, as Draco tugged on her arm.

"If you like this, wait until we get inside," Draco murmured.

Hermione let Draco pull her over the bridge underneath the waterfall. On the other side was a green and silver room with a single table in the center. In one corner was a withered looking lady at a harp playing sweet tunes. The harp rested against a shiny silver hardwood floor that met the metallic green walls. On the table was a white lace table cloth, with silver candle sticks and green candles burning yellow flames. The lights were dimmed in the room, giving the room a romantic atmosphere. Draco pulled out Hermione's chair as she sat down, slightly embarrassed that this was all for her.

"Order whatever you like, love. It's on me," Draco declared.

Hermione gazed down the menu, most in French. "I think I'll have the lobster and crab with an iced tea."

"You heard the lady. I will be having the prime rib with all the veggies. I'll also take a strawberry daiquiri," Draco ordered.

"Coming up sir," the waiter whom Hermione had not noticed replied.

As soon as he left Hermione whispered, "Why did you do all of this?"

Draco chuckled. "No need to whisper dear. And I told you, Malfoy's deserve the best, and this is the best. You deserve loads better than what the Weasley's can bring to the table, and I can bring exactly what they can not."

Hermione blushed.

"No need to be embarrassed," he smirked. "You are beautiful Hermione," he whispered so low she wasn't even sure he said it. "You are wonderful and smart, not to mention perfectly sexy, and, and," he trailed off.

Hermione blushed deeper. The waiter returned with their drinks. Just for something to do with her hands, she started sipping her drink. "Draco, why were you so horrid to me in Hogwarts? And don't say it was because you were raised that way." She had been pondering this question ever since, well, ever since she met Draco back in first year. "It must have been something more for you to constantly target me specifically." Hermione really didn't want to ruin the dinner, but she didn't know when she'd have Draco all to herself again.

Draco took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. "Okay, sad excuse I know, but at first, it _was _because I was raised that way. Then I realized that you weren't bad at all. You really were brilliant, and had so much talent hidden underneath your bushy hair. You were fanatically loyal to Potter and Weasley even if they didn't appreciate you. You went against everything I knew about muggle borns and your brains had nothing to do with your blood status. I guess I sort of got intrigued with the brightest witch of our age. So around fourth year I wanted to know more about you. You were extremely interesting, but I couldn't openly pursue you could I? And you would probably punch me again if I was nice to you. You would have thought I was playing you because you're muggle born, or to get to Potter. So the only other option I had was to still play the prat. At first, it was just scoping you out, learning more. And then I realized that you were amazing. Way better than Pansy. And if you ever saw me with Pansy, it was only because she wouldn't leave me the hell alone! She kept flirting with me and was literally giving me lap dances in the common room. She disgusted me!" Draco looked away in shame. "I know I should've pushed her away sooner, but she was a family friend. Finally I ditched her in sixth year when I spent so much time in the Room of Requirement. I did that because of you. Pansy was nothing in comparison. You know, sometimes I would sit in there and cry for hours on end. And you want to know why? It was because of you. I was so afraid that once the Death Eaters were in the school, they'd go after you because you're a muggle born and Potter's friend," tears started to swell in the corner of his eye. His heart ached at the memories.

Hermione had never seen a Malfoy this weak before. Draco's defenses were down, his normally rigid stature was slouched over and the heels of his hands were at his eyes. Hermione really felt his pain, but she couldn't tell if he was telling the truth. They'd both implied their feelings openly to each other, but had never actually said it straight out.

"Oh Draco…"

"I…I didn't know what to do. I didn't want you to get hurt, but I couldn't let Voldemort hurt my family," Draco choked out. His heart seemed to shrink on itself, the pressure on his chest was the same he'd felt when he was actually in the Room of Requirement.

Hermione reached her hands across the table to grab his clammy one. She gave a reassuring squeeze and gave a sad smile at him.

"It's okay. I'm here now and safe with you, and your family is back at home safe," Hermione didn't realize her mistake about calling Malfoy Manor her home. She loved him with all her heart she realized, but she just couldn't be sure of his intentions. Hermione's softer side wanted to let bygones be bygones and just trust him. Hermione's logical, smarter side wanted to analyze him; would a liar straight out say they loved you, or did true love take a while to admit? What would he even gain from her? The softer side of her fell for Draco and his tears and locked the logical side up in the corner of her mind. "I love you," she breathed.

Hermione broke her gaze from Draco's steely one to see the waiter with the food.

"Enjoy!"

"Thanks," they simultaneously said. Draco pushed his food around a little before really digging in. Hermione cut up her lobster before dipping it in butter.

"So," Draco started, trying to get the topic away from him. "What was it like growing up a muggle?"

Hermione, surprised at the sudden turn of topic, struggled to reply. "Uh…no magic. Everything I can do now with magic used to require labor, or electricity. Like cooking, we actually had to cook our food in an actual stove, or microwave, or oven even. We couldn't just wave our wands to heat it up and we didn't have house elves. Speaking of which, did you know that Dobby was related to your other house elves?"

"Yes, all our house elves are offspring of our others. I don't know, it's kind of like keeping a family line, like the Noble House of Black, or the Malfoys, or even the Weasleys I suppose." Draco wondered how the conversation went from their school days, to his internal turmoil, to house elves.

"Anyway, we had to work for money. My father wasn't some big shot in the ministry who got paid loads or who had a terribly big inheritance considering my nana's still alive and not willing to give up her money just yet. My mum was at school to become a dentist when she met my dad. They both work as dentists now and that's fair pay, but never as much as you have Draco," Hermione realized too late she struck a nerve about Lucius. "I'm sorry."

Draco was stung that she could be so blasé in talking about his father that way, but realized she was right. "No, don't be sorry. My father is just a big coward that earned all his money from his inheritance and mum's dowry." Draco replied looking down at his half finished plate. He felt ashamed of his father for not working a day in his life and having everything he could want laid out before him in comparison to Hermione's parents who worked hard and earned their living.

Hermione didn't know what to reply to that, so she pushed around her lobster a bit before biting into it. The lobster was juicy and tender, much better than the lobster she'd had before for Christmas. "Mmm…" she moaned.

"Great isn't it? I don't have much of a taste for seafood, but the lobster here is fantastic!" Draco smiled. He bit into his own food of steak and carrots, broccoli and cauliflower.

The couple spent the next hour or so enjoying their meal followed by several decadent chocolate desserts that they shared. Hermione became more comfortable looking into his smoldering silver eyes as they talked. They shared their childhood memories, favorites, and plans for the future. Neither brought up their relationship and where it would go, or a future including the other. Draco had tried bringing it up with her, but she would look away and comment on the food. The night wore on and soon the waiter came back to give Draco the check and tell them the restaurant was closing. It was midnight.

Draco stumbled in getting up. He and Hermione had both downed two bottles of wine and even though Draco could drink heavily before being totally drunk, he wasn't completely sober. Hermione on the other hand was completely drunk and was giggling as Draco escorted her back to the bridge.

"Oh, do we really have to go Draco?" Hermione giggled. Her words were only slightly slurred, but her equilibrium was way off.

"Yes," Draco replied. He pulled her out of the restaurant and they stood on the marble stairs.

"Draco, look," Hermione pointed up to the stars that were dancing around in her vision. "Pretty."

Draco did look up on the clear night. A slight breeze ruffled Hermione's dress. The stars were bright and he could easily identify the constellation of Orion's belt and he found the star Bellatrix, the namesake of his aunt. He also found Sirius and Regulus, and the constellation Draco. "Too bad you're not sober enough to see this," he murmured to Hermione. He pulled her in a close embrace and apparated them home.

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**Hope you liked the chapter!**

**Translations:**

**Merci Monsieur-Thank you sir**

**Bonjour Monsieur! C'est moi Draco Malfoy. J'ai réservations ici-Hello sir! This is me, Draco Malfoy. I have reservations here**

**Oui, ce monsieur droit chemin-Yes, right this way sir**


	7. Meanwhile

**This chapter is about what is going on elsewhere in the wizarding world. I thought I'd wake our favorite couple up, and then switch to what's happening on Ron and Harry's side of the wood. Also, this chapter is dedicated to Trista and Trixie Hal. May they never tell lies!**

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_Draco was on one knee, holding a velvet box in his hand. Hermione, beautiful as ever stood above him chewing her lip in anticipation. He leaned forward and opened the box. Hermione made a gagging noise and threw her hands up to her mouth. She shook her head at him, her curls bouncing wildly, as she ran for the bathroom._

Draco sprang from the couch, awakened by Hermione vomiting. His breathing was ragged, and he was clutching his heart. _Thank God it was just a dream._ He thought_. Or a nightmare if really is appalled by me._ Draco threw off his heavy blanket and walked in the bathroom to see a disheveled Hermione slouched on the marble floor in front of the toilet. He reached over and pulled back her bushy hair.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"You're welcome," Draco replied. He smoothed down her hair and helped her up. She looked up at him with a loving smile, then turned towards the sink.

"Crap, need a toothbrush," she muttered.

Draco waved his wand and transfigured the bar of soap into toothpaste and the holder into a toothbrush.

"There you go, brand new," he chuckled. "When you're done, get dressed because we're going shopping today!"

()()()()()()()()

Harry was pacing back and forth in the Room of Requirement. He had the locket destroyed, but still had the cup and the diadem. The sword of Godric Gryffindor was left with Bill and Fleur at Shell Cottage in their safe. He gazed around the room that had been his home along with many others escaping Snape's reign. He'd come in through the Hog's Head two day's earlier, and Neville had welcomed him with warm arms. The room had popped in another hammock decorated in reds and golds for Harry, and a safe for the Horcruxes.

"Are you sure that we can't help Harry?" Neville approached.

"Actually, I think you can," Harry did not want to divulge Dumbledore's quest, but if Neville could distract the Death Eaters from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom long enough for him to procure the Basilisk fangs, then that was fine with him. Neville waved over a group of five Gryffindor's and two Hufflepuffs.

"Okay, here's what you need to do…"

()()()()()()()()

Ron was entranced with the Death Eater beauty standing outside his home. He was so intoxicated with Amortentia, that he would feel overwhelming physical pain when he was not near Lorelei. Maia had kept dosing him with it in hopes that he would soon be so in love with her daughter that he'd forget about his feelings for his friends and be able to give up their secrets without a second thought.

Lorelei had suggested that she meet his family, since in fact, they were 'dating'. Ron agreed without hesitation, but then thought back about what they would say.

"I don't know about this Lor. My family was kind of fond of Hermione," he started, but quickly amended when she shot him daggers that faded as quickly as they appeared. "But they'd understand that I've moved on after she disappeared. I mean, what are the chances she'd even be alive?" That news did not trouble the redhead. All he needed and cared about was Lorelei, and that was under the effects of a love potion.

"That's good Ronny," she said in a babyish voice, making her 'R' sound like a 'W'. She traced her finger down his cheek then knocked on the wooden door.

Molly Weasley was watching the 'Ronald' hand of her clock turn to 'Home', so she wasn't surprised at all when she saw Ron at the front door. What did surprise her was the fact that his girlfriend was stunning-and not Hermione.

"Hello Ron!" she threw her arms around her youngest son in a warm embrace. "And good day to you dear," she stuck out her hand to Lorelei, who daintily shook it. "Who might you be? A friend from Hogwarts?"

"No, after he visited his brother and sister-in-law he came a wandering and we met in Diagon Alley," she said, lying like a natural.

"Oh," Molly said stunned. "Well, come on in, get out of the cold."

Ron followed Lorelei into the Burrow. She glanced over the state of the house; she had higher expectations of purebloods. She threw Ron a look showing her obvious distaste. He blushed a blotchy red, embarrassed that his girlfriend had to see a house that was once his family's pride was now his shame.

"Arthur! Ron's here with, with," Molly started.

"Lorelei," she said as if it was printed across her face and Molly couldn't read.

"Ron's here with Lorelei!" Molly shouted up the rickety stairs.

Lor pursed her lips, expecting another redhead (oh how she was tiring of the color!) dressed in shabby, worn-out clothes, with a kind face. And that is exactly the man who came down the stairs.

Arthur came thumping down the worn stairs to stand by his wife, eyeing Lorelei, thinking she was too formal for his home being dressed in a glitzy white dress with heels making her at least four inches taller than she really was. Quite opposite to his wife's warming nature to most everyone, he was wary of this girl, thinking that Ron wasn't so shallow as to date a girl just because she's pretty. Lorelei was butterfly in a home of crickets. She didn't belong, something wasn't right. Despite the gut feeling he had about her, he would at least give her a chance; after all, Bill got married to Fleur who had veela blood in her. But then again, he felt perfectly content with Fleur.

"Nice to meet you Lorelei," he said, reaching out to shake her hand.

"You can call me Lor," she replied with an air of being bored.

Molly, being aware of the slight tension between Lor and Arthur invited them to move into the living room.

"So Mr. Weasley, you work at the Ministry?" Lor asked, wondering how the heck he could work for the Ministry and live like this. The couch was overstuffed and saggy; the fireplace had a burnt look to it, the ashes swept into a neat little pile. A game of wizard chess was set up on a table two feet high, with pillows on either side, bleached from being next to the sunny window and frayed at the edges. The whole room smelled of owl droppings.

"Yes I do Lor. I love my job," he replied, then sensing her reason for asking he quickly added, "and even though I work there, that doesn't mean that I make a lot of money."

"Sit down Lor," Ron waved her over to the overstuffed couch that was saggy from the nine Weasley's sitting on it.

"Mhm," Lorelei was really disgusted with the place, but she had to keep the appearance of a good girlfriend, so she grinned (more of snobby one, but still) and bore it.

"So Ron, what happened to Harry and Hermione?" Arthur started, not wanting to talk about Lorelei.

()()()()()()()()

Harry wiped the sweat off his brow with his wrist. "Here Neville, hold it down!" Harry swung his arm up and stabbed down with the Basilisk fang. Blood pooled in the cup from the puncture. It filled to the top along with Tom Riddle Jr.'s screams. The blood pumped out and overflowed the cup, similar to what happened with the diary. Harry gasped for air. Helga Hufflepuff's Horcrux affected his judgment of his own friends. He thought they were conspiring behind his back to take him out like Voldemort. Finally, he had let Neville snap him out of it so he could stab it. He threw the stained-red cup across the room into a trashcan that appeared out of thin air. He laid back and thought about what it had cost him to obtain the fangs.

Getting into the Chamber was easy enough, and retrieving the fangs was too, it was the getting back part that was challenging. Millicent Bulstrode had taken a liking to talking to Moaning Myrtle after her boyfriend broke up with her, so she was present when Harry emerged from behind the sink. Harry had frozen in his tracks as Millicent's eyes grew as large as the house elves. Then she did what Harry prayed that she wouldn't; she screamed and alerted Headmaster Snape. Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak and yanked it over himself, cradling the fangs under his arm. He flew out of the lavatory. Alec Carrow was waiting for him, and saw his ankles from under the flying cloak. He started running, but by then, he had realized his mistake, and laid flat against the wall, barely breathing. Alec ran right by without a clue. Harry swooped up the stairs, only to get stuck in the same one that had caught him in fourth year. He had sat there helplessly, up to his thighs in the step. He waited about an hour or so, until Neville wandered around, looking for Harry. He had whipped of the cloak, nearly giving poor Neville a heart attack. Neville had a hard time yanking Harry out, but in the end Harry escaped with only a few splinters. The two crouched over and headed back to the Room of Requirement. From there, there was no incident, but they did discover that Snape had sent Filch to patrol the corridor. Dean Thomas had asked for a telescope similar to the one in Umbridges office with Mad Eye's eye so they could see if anyone with ill wishes was wandering around.

Harry got up and walked over to the telescope. It was attached to the door, and you just pulled out the end so you could look into it. He peered out to the other side, startled to not see Filch hunkering around in the hall. He reached for the doorknob, opening the door a crack. To anyone on the outside, it would look as if a green eyed boy was peeking out of an ordinary broom closet. Down the hall, Harry saw three of his friends hogtieing Filch.

"Hey! What the bloody hell are you guys doing?" Harry yelled, waving his hands to catch the attention of his friends.

"Hello Harry!" Seamus Finnigan called. "It's part of the rebellion!" he righted his back and put one booted foot atop Filch's head. Two Ravenclaw twins checked the ropes binding him.

"What?"

"Aye mate. Dumbledore's Army is rebelling against Snape's reign by kidnapping his spies, causing loads of trouble, like when Umbridge was here, and vandalizing the Death Eater's stuff. Oh, and other small things that would bother them," Seamus said. He started walking towards Harry and the door, leaving the two Ravenclaws whose names were not known by Harry, to half carry, half drag Filch down the granite floor.

"Are you wrong in the head? Seamus think. How are you going to keep Filch? Will the Room magically supply us with a holding cell?" Harry ranted, pulling at his hair. Seamus held the door open for the Ravenclaws to enter carrying Filch. He looked around behind them in the corridor before closing the door.

"Where should we put him?" the girl with short, spiky hair and a bubbly attitude asked.

"Over on the floor," Seamus waved dismissively, trying to think of how to word what he wanted to ask of the Room. Neville was best, but he was out.

"Where on the floor?" the girl with heavy black eyeliner and long hair streaked with blue asked.

"ANYWHERE!" Seamus exploded. "Gods, can't a man get a little thinking room around here? Just set him down somewhere till I get the cell, okay Trista? Okay Trixie?" he started pacing the room.

"Okay!" Trixie replied merrily while Trista replied with an air of boredom.

"Here, what about this?" Harry offered. "We need a dungeon-like holding room with no windows to the outside, and that can be completely sealed off of the main room. The prisoner's should not be able to use magic, and the room should be soundproof. Is that specific enough?"

"Yeah!" Seamus exclaimed. "That's perfect!"

()()()()()()()()

The cold pale figure beckoned the massive black reptile towards him. The great snake slithered across the old creaky floorboards of the dingy room. The faded blue wallpaper was peeling horribly, exposing the rotting wood underneath. Curtains that were once yellow now hung sadly and did little to protect the room from the sun's rays. Of course, this happened to be a rather stormy day, so a cool breeze entered through the multiple cracks in the glass. The bald man in black robes was sitting upon a well-worn out loveseat. The blue was faded and the cotton inside was spilling out of long deep gashes that also adorned the walls. Long, tapered fingers curled around the Elder Wand.

"Nagini my dear," a cruel voice crooned. "Why isn't the Deathstick working properly for me?"

Nagini slithered up over the back of the chair, curling herself around his head, and staring into a face so similar to her own. She hissed in reply.

"It must be that Dumbledore was not the true master of the Elder Wand. If Severus killed Dumbledore, then I must kill Severus," he said without showing the slightest bit of regret for wanting to kill one of his best agents. His red eyes narrowed into slits so small, you could hardly tell they were there unless you got up close. But if you did that to this particular man, those eyes would be the last thing you ever saw.

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**Yay! This chapter is done! I hope you all guessed who and where I was talking about in that last part. Good ole Voldie and the Shrieking Shack! Please review! Please review! Please review or Voldemort will have to Avada you too! (hehe that rhymes :) even more incentive to review!)**


	8. All Girls Love Shopping

**Hello my readers. I am really sorry for not updating in a while. I haven't abandoned this story; I have too much planned for it. This chapter is dedicated to Alex, who has had her 'no computer' sentence lifted from her, so now she will be able to read this.**

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"Please can we sit for a while?" Hermione pleaded. She plopped down on a bench outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. She pulled off her worn down yellow sandals and rubbed her aching feet.

"Why? Hermione dear, we've still got to go to Gringotts and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and I am going to take you somewhere special," Draco fell on the bench next to her. He had hopes that she'd be a little more enthusiastic about shopping, after all, girls loved shopping and sparkly things right? But then again this was Hermione Granger who was different and special in every way.

"Really?" she whined. "It's already getting late and we've been shopping in muggle stores all day! Why do you want to stop at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" she arched her newly waxed eyebrow-Draco had left her at a spa where she had a manicure, pedicure and facial.

"Oh, to pick up some pranks to pull on my old man, and I thought you'd want to see those twins," he stated. He glanced down the alley; it was peculiarly empty and he could see some of their merchandise flying around the colorful shop.

"Oh. That was thoughtful," she said, stunned. She was afraid that Draco was going to embarrass her in front of them, but now that she thought about it, how were_ they_ going to act about them 'dating'.

"Come on Hermione; put your shoes back on so we can go to Gringotts," he said firmly.

"Fine," she exasperated.

"Good, now come on," he hoped up and held out his hand. She rolled her eyes and took it, unaware that he enthusiastically pulled her up.

"Gentle please! My feet are so sore," she moaned.

"Yes, yes," he said, not really paying attention to her, focusing all his energy on pulling a spent Hermione down the road. She hobbled on one foot, trying to get her shoe on.

"Go in and wait, I've got to put my shoe on," she told him, leaning over to properly stick her foot in the sandal. She promptly stood up to see a certain bulky, smelly figure impeding her way.

"Hello there Miss. What'cha doing out here all by yourself," he growled.

Her breath starting coming in short spurts; who she assumed was Greyback by his smell and wolfish appearance even though the moon wasn't full stepped in front of her and reached out to cup her cheek. She was wandless, and generally defenseless in the deserted alley. "Leave me alone," she stuttered.

"I don't think so. You see, I haven't had any fun since Shell Cottage, and I was told that a certain little Mudblood named Granger was going to be there," the smelly werewolf advanced on Hermione, grabbing the strap of her dress. "Can you guess how disappointed I was when the little guest of honor didn't show up?

"D-D-Draco!" she screeched.

"Her-what?" Draco spun around to see Hermione clutching her captor's wrist, feet dangling several inches off the ground, held in place by Fenrir Greyback. "Petrificus Totalus!" he shouted, hitting Greyback square on the face. The large man fell to the ground, Hermione going down with him. She clawed at his fingers attempting to pry them off her, trying to avoid the murderous look of shock of what Draco had done in his eyes.

Hermione ran to his embrace. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Draco rambled on with questions while Hermione collected herself.

"Yes, just a little shaken is all," her voice wavered, even though her natural Gryffindor courage was pushing the fear of the encounter away.

He patted her hair down, and pulled her against his chest. She rested her check on his pale blue shirt, inhaling his cologne. "It's alright. I'm here. Come on, let's go see the twins, I can stop at Gringotts later." Draco pulled her along, forgetting about the petrified werewolf lying on the cobblestone road.

Little known to the couple, MacNair, hidden in the shadows between two shops, witnessed the protective way Draco held Hermione, and that he would actually petrify one of Voldemort's followers, much less for a Mudblood. MacNair was going to redeem himself for not obtaining the girl's secrets at the cottage. He'd turn Draco in of treason and he'd get the dirty little Mudblood and her secret too.

()()()()()()()()

The couple walked out of Weasley's Wizard Wheeze's with armfuls of goodies. Draco carried several boxes of Skiving Snackboxes (for his father he said), Peruvian Instant Darkness powder, Decoy Detonators, and Wildfire Whiz-bangs. Hermione lugged out the real-life version of Hangman, a few muggle magic tricks, several Patented Daydream Charms, and a fuchsia colored baby Pygmy Puff she named Thuban. The whole affair with the twins went quite well. The twins actually congratulated them; they said that they were really fond of Hermione, and would have liked to have her as their sister-in-law, but not because of Ron. Fred said that they made a cute couple, and that Hermione keep Draco's pureblood arse in line. George just whispered in Draco's ear that Hermione was sometimes as thick-headed as giant's skin is, and that she was just as stubborn.

Draco set his boxes down to wave his wand. "There, all set. Now those are back at home with the rest of our shopping bags," he reached over and grabbed her waist garbed in a yellow and orange sundress. "Time for your surprise!" With another wave of his wand, he blindfolded Hermione, carefully guiding her several stores down the empty alley.

"Where are we going?" she giggled, the memory of her werewolf encounter gone by the presence of Draco.

"To get you a new wand," he whispered. He pulled off the blindfold, stuffing it into his pocket. He led Hermione into the old shop.

She let out a gasp. "Oh Draco! I don't know what to say!" she turned and jumped a hug on him, squeezing him tighter than he thought the small girl capable.

"Alright then, let's go," he opened the door, ringing a bell, letting Hermione walk in first to meet the wandmaker.

Mr. Ollivander, now quite old and frail looking, stepped out of the storage room, full of wands, waiting for the day that they will find their young wizard.

"Ah, I remember you. Vine with a dragon heartstring core 10 ¾ inches. Hermione Granger I take it?" The old man reached his hand over the counter to shake. "And you, hawthorn with a unicorn hair core 10 inches exactly. Draco Malfoy being the owner." He shook Draco's large hand, his own paled in comparison. "What might you two be needing?"

"Hermione here, er, well, she's lost her wand. We came to purchase another for her," Draco stuttered over the words, embarrassed that he couldn't even talk to an old man without dignity.

"Very well. Come with me," Ollivander motioned to come with him to the back room.

Hermione strode along behind Mr. Ollivander, curious to see what her new wand will be like. He opened the door, and stood aside, letting her walk in. Shelves lined the walls, and rows upon rows of wands adorned the dusty walls. Floating candles hovered around every corner, and above the shelves, giving the room a dim, antique appearance.

"Here, try this one. It's similar to your last one," Mr. Ollivander handed her a simply designed wand, of vine wood. "Vine with a veela hair core, 11 inches."

Hermione held the wand; it felt different, like she was holding someone else's limb. It felt wrong. The wand refused to even do anything; it was as placid as a regular tree limb. "I don't think this one likes me."

"Very well. Try this one," he handed her a heather wand with a unicorn hair core, 10 ½ inches. This wand was more intricately designed; a little too pompous for her though. This wand showed a little life, feebly sparking before extinguishing itself, showing no signs of its magical ability.

Ollivander went through several more wands, the one made of birch got Hermione's hopes up, only to crush them when it died out too. Draco noticed that with each passing wand, Hermione got more and more discouraged, as if her first wand was the only one she was good enough for. Mr. Ollivander walked over to Draco, leaving Hermione lost in a sea of wands that shunned her, left her out in the dark in a world full of magic.

"Sir, this has never happened before. Normally the witch or wizard's wand has found them by now. This is quite strange," the old man said in hushed tones, not wanting Hermione to hear. "Maybe if I let her look around herself."

Draco was too, getting disheartened about Hermione's predicament.

"Draco!" he heard Hermione squeak in excitement.

"What! Hermione, are you okay?" Draco rushed into the back room, not really knowing what to expect. Mr. Ollivander followed close behind. "Hermione, where are you?" He was getting panicked now. The room back here was a maze of shelves, easy to get lost in like the hedge maze in the Triwizard Tournament.

"I'm back here!" she yelled. She started laughing, her joyous peals reaching Draco's ears.

He rushed around a corner, having lost Mr. Ollivander several rows back. To his sudden relief, and delight, Hermione was spinning in circles, unharmed, waving a new wand back and forth, performing some simple spells.

"Draco! I finally found one! Er, I mean, it finally found me!" she squealed in delight at her findings. "Oh! Mr. Ollivander, could you please tell me what kind of wand this is?" she asked as he wheezed around the corner.

She held out the wand; it was simple, with a crisscrossing pattern at the end. He took it and studied it closely. "Ivy with a dragon heartstring core, 11 inches," he said with a satisfied smile.

* * *

**Thuban is a star in the constellation Draco, and used to be the northern star. Also, I know that Ollivander was taken hostage by Volde****mort in the 7****th**** book, but I had to keep him for Hermione's wand. According to the Celtic meaning of trees, ivy is determination, change, peace. I'm really sorry for not updating and this being a short chapter, but I wanted to get it up by the end of the month. Please review!**


	9. For Real

**Sooo sorry for not reviewing lately! I've been busy with the play I'm in, chopping up trees and baking, and I've just been lazy too. I have also been formulating ideas for new stories, and have been plotting those little by little. I intend to outline and plot those better than I have with this story, so those might take me even longer than this one! I'm dedicating this chapter to my sister whether or not she likes Pansy because I gave them the same birthday. As always, read and review! I really could use the feedback!**

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_Dear Diary,_

_Draco took me to get a new wand yesterday! This one is ivy with a dragon heartstring core, eleven inches. It's got a bit more design to it than my old one, but I love it nonetheless. This one works flawlessly, possibly even better than my last! Oh, I love Draco for doing this for me (even though I've loved him before this)! I also got to see Fred and George Weasley. While Draco was looking at their Skiving Snackboxes, I took them into the back room and asked about the Order. Apparently, the Dark Lord is after more prophecies! Since Lucius's failure at obtaining the first (about Harry of course!) he's sent someone else undercover to procure the others. George said that they're more like riddles, perfect for Tom Riddle. Ha ha. I am just wondering if those 'riddles' are the same things that Dumbledore gave me…the one about the snitch did seem riddle-ish._

_At present, I am here in Draco's bedroom (his parents do believe that we're sleeping together); while he is off to attend certain affairs with his father. As his loyalty is unwavering to his parents (whom by the way are still loyal to You-Know-Who for the most part), his loyalty to the Dark Lord is shaky. I do believe that they are actually talking to him, although, as to where I do not know because after what happened here, he had vacated Malfoy Manor._

()()()()()()()()

"So, Draco. Have you upheld your terms? I have mine. Your parents shall not be harmed, but you must find out what Dumbledore wanted Harry to do," Voldemort's ice cold voice said. "And I need that mudblood's secrets."

Draco stood rigid in front of the Dark Lord, the vision of many of his fears. He resisted the strong urge to wring his clammy hands, but could not help looking over his shoulder at Fenrir and MacNair.

"I-I do know sir. He has Potter searching for something called Horcruxes," he said, his voice sounding braver than he felt.

"And where, pray tell, did you find this information? Was it perhaps from the Avery's? You do know that Maia has bewitched the blood-traitor Weasley with Amortentia so heavily, that he will probably never return from his potion induced infatuation with her daughter. She was the one that gleaned this information Draco. Do not lie when you tell me where you learned Potter's doings," Voldemorts cold, monotone voice said.

"Y-yes sir. This is where I found out about Potter," he stuttered.

"And what about the Mudblood Draco?" Voldemort seethed.

"I-I don't know yet," Draco was getting honestly scared now. He couldn't betray Hermione now; she meant so much to him. But he couldn't lead his parents to their doom for his mistake.

"WELL FIND OUT! Crucio!"

Draco's screams reverberated off the blue walls of the Shrieking Shack. The once tall, lean, imposing figure crumpled to the ground. His fingernails, bitten down to the quick from nervousness clawed at the cold hard stone of the floor. In his head he screamed for mercy, his lips trembling to for the words, but his tongue was betraying him, shaking from the pain that rippled through his whole body. Once Voldemort lifted the horrendous curse, he let out a gasp, and clawed at his erratically beating heart. His platinum bangs clung to his sweaty forehead. _So this is what Hermione went through. I can never let this happen to her again. I'll do everything in my power to make sure she's safe._

"Think Draco, you're a smart boy," Voldemort said in the tone of voice he used in the graveyard when reminding Harry to remember his manners. "Where would a girl hide her secrets? These are prophecies Draco! Think!" Voldemort danced around the still figure, evil glee in his voice.

Suddenly, Draco did remember. That night after he had come home to find Hermione suspiciously doing nothing, she had said "_For the one that is perceived as a spy, he will, unfortunately hold an untimely death. But not before helping the offspring of his love on his quest_." A prophecy. Severus Snape was the spy, and he died. Since the first parts of the prophecy were correct, he assumed that Snape had indeed helped Harry before his death. As soon as this realization dawned on him, he assumed the prophecies were kept in her diary – the one she didn't want him reading anymore.

"Now, find those prophecies Draco! If you don't," Voldemort's hissing voice trailed off. "Nagini is getting very hungry," he murmured more to himself than Draco. "Why are you still here?" he asked the weakened boy lying on the floor. "BEGONE!" Draco scrambled up off the cold, unforgiving stone floor and dashed through the door. Once outside the protective apparating borders, he closed his eyes and thought of home.

"My Lord," MacNair walked in through the door. "I have some very interesting information regarding the Malfoy brat and Potter's friend the mudblood."

()()()()()()()()

"Lucius!" Narcissa screeched.

Her normally strong, arrogant, and physically fit husband wheezed up the stairs into his study. Since his sons agreement with the Dark Lord - to find the prophecies and Potter's whereabouts – he had been constantly worrying, something the average wizard would not expect the rich pureblood to do. Indeed, he was probably as worried as Narcissa, but wasn't as good as hiding it.

"What? What is it Cissy?" he said in-between deep breaths. He sneered and gave an evil eye to all the murmuring portraits of his ancestors.

"The Parkinsons!" she yelled as if he were still downstairs in the kitchens divulging himself in chocolate.

"What Cissy? Did someone die? Why are you screeching like that woman?" the pale figure straightened up and walked over to the desk. "What is that?" he snatched the paper away from his wife.

_The Parkinson Family _

_Cordially Invites you to Pansy's 17__th__ Birthday Ball_

_When: April 7, 1997_

_Where: The Parkinson Estate_

_2341 Fayette Lane, Norfolk_

"What the hell is this supposed to mean? Who would have a 17th party for some snotty girl at this time!" he snorted.

"Well," Narcissa twiddled her fingers. "Should we show Draco? I mean, can he bring the girl?" she asked nervously. Narcissa and Lucius refused to acknowledge Hermione by her name, or the fact that she was 'dating' their son, even if they did agree it was best for Draco in a world without Voldemort.

()()()()()()()()

Draco had returned to Hermione who was in the library, shaking and covered in the grime he picked up on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. Hermione was in the back cuddled up on a window bench, the morning rays highlighting the ends of her brown hair. She had a new book propped up on her knees, her fingernails in her mouth. She was reading a suspense she randomly grabbed. Surprisingly, it was written by a muggle author, so she thought she'd give it a try.

"Hermione?" Draco called. He peeked around the different corners until he found her in the secluded corner. "Hermione? There you are. Would you join me for lunch?"

She looked up from her book, forgetting to mark her place. She looked up to see Draco give her a crooked smile that made her heart leap until she gazed over his dirty shirt and shaking fingers. "Oh Draco!" she leapt up from the nook she was in and ran over to inspect her 'boyfriend'. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Something obviously happened, I mean look at you! Did he hurt you?" she looked up into his stormy gray eyes and knew. "He crucio'd you didn't he?" Tears welled up in the witch's bright brown eyes.

"Yeah, but it was nothing," His words hid the actual pain he felt, and the terror that had washed over him when he realized that his psychotic aunt Bellatrix had put Hermione through the same thing. That hadn't actually been the first time he'd been crucio'd. When he was in first year, his father had crucio'd the poor eleven year old when he found out his son was bested in grades by a muggleborn. His mother begged and pleaded for him to stop hurting their only son, but he was in a fit of rage and couldn't be talked to. That had happened long ago and he had forgotten the pain that coursed through one's body. He couldn't ever, _ever _let that happen to the beautiful witch standing in front of him, unbuttoning his shirt. "Hermione, what are you doing?" he smirked, placing his hands on hers to stop her progress. "Can't keep your hands off me, can you?" As much as he wanted her to take off his shirt, he would rather be clean when she did it.

"Oh shut your mouth Draco," she paused her work, and looked up at him.

"I would be delighted to," he retorted. And with that, his mouth descended upon her small pink one.

Hermione froze in astonishment, but soon relaxed and kissed him back. This is what she wanted isn't it? She loved him, and he loved her. When she felt Draco pull away, her chest tightened at his retreat. She looked up and saw him gazing over the top of her head. She slowly spun around on her heels to face a stony Lucius with a piece of parchment tightly held in his fist and his wife whose face gave away nothing.

"Sorry to interrupt your…little rendezvous…but we have just received an owl from the Parkinsons. Pansy is having a 17th birthday party on April 7th. It is a formal ball for her guests, and the band The Weird Sisters shall be performing," Lucius drawled out the last part as if their music was distasteful.

"She has invited you and her," Narcissa nodded in Hermione's direction.

()()()()()()()()

"I really don't know Draco," Hermione said in between mouthfuls of lunch. "It really wouldn't be appropriate that I come, being a muggle born and all, and Pansy and I are complete opposites. I'd be like a fish out of water."

"Hermione please!" Draco pleaded. "You'll be with me and I'll protect you from whatever slander and verbal abuse you're expecting. You can consider this our first real date," he said before shoving a piece of toast down his gullet. He absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the glass table, awaiting Hermione's response.

"I thought our first date was at Le Poisson Rouge. Remember?" she said wanting to change the subject.

"That was as 'us'," he retorted, using air quotes around _us_. "I would like this to be a real first date. No pretending that we're dating. I want 'us' to be real," he spoke softer than before, but still air quoting. "Hermione will you go out with me for real?"

Her heart started pounding in her rib cage. She concentrated on his eyes, a beautiful silver that seemed to be alive and swirling around his pupils, searching for any hint that he might be lying. She may have known that he liked her, but she didn't want to be duped into humiliation. As she searched those gorgeous eyes, she didn't find a trace of lies. It was 100% truth.

"Yes," she whispered, tears magnifying her eyes.

"Great! More shopping then for a dress!" Draco said with glee.

Hermione just rolled her eyes.

()()()()()()()()

After looking at a few selections at Madam Malkins, they decided to move on. Hermione had already passed on a black strapless that had a swirling pattern underneath a layer of netting with a long black sash that tied around the waist, a red gown that had off the shoulder ruffles and was gently flared out at the waist with layers of the fabric going to the floor. She also passed on a green one and a brown one that puffed out at the waist like a Cinderella dress. She finally settled on three dresses. A shorter, strapless red dress that had netting over the whole thing, with black underneath, a green spaghetti strap dress that had a low cut back and a light, flowing skirt that angled up on the right side, and a black strapless that went down to her knees and ballooned out in layers.

"Draco, I really can't decide. You pick," Hermione pouted, standing in front of her three choices displayed on mannequins.

"Why should I? I love all of them on you Hermione, and besides, you'll be the one wearing it," he simply replied. "Be true to yourself Hermione; pick the one you can be you in."

Hours later, and several hundred Galleons poorer, Draco helped adjust Hermione's straps on her back. She chose the sexy green one which delighted Draco to no end until she requested it in bright scarlet.

"Thanks Draco," she said as she sat on the couch he had transfigured out of his clock when he first kidnapped her. She reached down to adjust her black stilettos that wrapped up her calf. These shoes Draco decided on for her because he said that no one, not even muggles, wore flats to formal parties, regarding her pick of flat red sandals.

Even though the actual party was in two days, Narcissa wanted a formal photo of her only son and his girlfriend in their garden among the hedges. She wanted to commemorate this because although Draco and Pansy were close, they never officially dated, so Hermione was his first girlfriend.

"Draco, I'll be ready in a few. Why aren't you dressed yet?" Hermione questioned her handsome boyfriend who was still in his shorts and a T-shirt.

"I was busy helping my gorgeous girlfriend into her dress," he smirked, giving her a wink before closing the bathroom door to shower.

A slight breeze ruffled the ends of Hermione's dress as they walked out into the garden. They had about half an hour before the sun disappeared over the horizon and Narcissa found the gold streaks of light filtering through the leaves a perfect spot for her son and his girlfriend to stand. The usually smartly dressed woman was garbed in a simple light green sundress and her normally tightly wrapped bun was just held back in a loose braid. Her camera dangled from her wrist as she led the couple to a secluded alcove that wasn't so secluded when they arrived. The trio could hear the taps of the peacocks pecking at the ground from around the corner.

"Shoo!" Draco tried chasing them away, but horribly failed when more from the surrounding area closed in on him and started poking him with their beaks.

"Wait Draco. I think the peacocks will make a lovely addition to the picture!" Narcissa cried. She gave him a not-so-soft slap on the arm as she attempted to calm the peacocks. The peacocks were very docile, and would allow themselves to be arranged however the Lady of the House wanted them, however, if anyone but her or Lucius tried anything with them, they got quite violent. When Narcissa was satisfied with the array of peacocks, she ushered the couple to stand by them.

"Okay…hm…Draco, you stand here," she grabbed his shoulders that were at her eye level and moved him in a spot of sunlight. "Hermione you stand next to him on his right." Hermione sidestepped a few peahens and stood next to Draco's arm. "Oh go on. Scoot in closer, he's not going to bite. And Draco, put your arm around her and look like you're _happy_. You are dating and it would seem odd if the Malfoy couple didn't look even mildly happy to be together."

Releasing a little bit of tension, Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her in closer, letting his signature smirk slide onto his features. Hermione, feeling him relax and be a bit more like himself, clasped her hand over his and tilted her head up to look at the man she had come to love. The corner of her lip twitched up at seeing his swirling gray eyes gaze upon her. Narcissa, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to catch them off guard, pulled up her camera and snapped a photo of the unwary couple. A miniature version of Draco and Hermione slid out a slot at the bottom of the camera. Narcissa's eager fingers grabbed the photo and ran over to the stunned couple.

"Is this a normal muggle camera?" Hermione inquired, intrigued that Narcissa Malfoy would own a muggle made object, much less know how to use one.

"Yes," she said cheekily. This Narcissa seemed oddly out of character to Hermione. This Narcissa let go of her prejudices and dropped her cold demeanor. This was a totally different side of Narcissa Malfoy than the one that greeted her that morning in Draco's bedroom. "I actually have taken up the muggle hobby of photography," she squeaked. She looked down and a slight blush bloomed on her pale cheeks. "Don't tell your father though."

Hermione and Draco were both so astonished at her announcement that Hermione dropped her jaw and Draco's eyes grew as wide as saucers. "When did this happen mother?" Draco spluttered.

"Oh, a few years back when you were in Fourth Year. I got really interested in Rita Skeeter's work and the photographs were just wonderful!" Narcissa recalled. "Well, aside from you," she looked at Hermione, "and the Potter boy."

Even Draco knew about Rita's scandalous and untrue articles, so he never saw the article or picture of Hermione hugging Potter. This news wakened a little part of him that wanted to crush Potter even though he had yet to know what the photo was about. "When was this?" he drawled, outwardly showing no signs of jealousy.

"Oh," Hermione stammered. "It was right before the first challenge. I wished him luck and gave him a hug and Skeeter got it on camera. She gave us both really bad publicity." Hermione frowned.

"Oh," was all Draco replied.

"Anyway, let's get on with this photo shoot now can we?" Narcissa reminded them.

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**I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I have listed below the links to Hermione's outfits.**

.com/wwwexportcontent/sites/dispatch/life/stories/2009/02/14/red_ _**Strapless red and black dress**_

.com/imgres?imgurl=/uploaded_&imgrefurl=%3Fprod_id%3D24&usg=_jN0IzNOa1Xxv8CfU-akMLtalovY=&h=960&w=732&sz=163&hl=en&start=9&itbs=1&tbnid=eilNYlHVYtUFSM:&tbnh=148&tbnw=113&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dlime%2Bgreen%2Bdresses%26hl%3Den%26gbv%3D2%26tbs%3Disch:1 _**Green spaghetti strap dress**_

.com/tea-length-bridesmaid-dresses/tea_ _**Black dress**_

./_tSH9pZD9bek/SJhdTw8NH7I/AAAAAAAAFIE/C6yt4jjGvOI/s400/stiletto%2Bheel%2Bstrappy%2Blace%2Bup% _**Shoes**_

**Please review!**


	10. Saiphs First Party

**This is a shorter chapter, but I wanted to get it posted before I go on vacation. This chapter is for Tyler and anybody else out there that has felt cheated on.**

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"You look fine Hermione," Draco sighed. She had spent the prior hours tucked away in Draco's bathroom primping herself up. She absolutely would not let anyone in except Narcissa, the queen of hair and make-up, and she still had doubts on her looks. She felt like she was sticking out like a sore thumb in the ballroom in her red dress. Even though no one would recognize her because they changed her eye color to a green, and her hair flaming red (she always had been jealous of Ginny's natural fiery red hair) she still felt nervous about the disguise. Almost all couples were wearing some shade of green, black, or white with a few wearing a blueish green or yellow green. Lavish green and silver decorations adorned the walls and ceiling, and the Weird Sisters had their band equipment set up on a raised platform at the far end of the ballroom. The birthday girl sat upon her silver throne upon an even higher platform surrounded by her plethora of gifts.

"No, really, Draco. I don't think I should be here," she cried, trying to pull her wrist free of Draco's vice like grip. "Pansy will probably have me hexed for stepping a foot on her property, and I really think this is a bad idea," Hermione begged to leave now that she was here.

"I won't let anything happen to you, beautiful. You are disguised as Saiph Antares. No one will recognize you. You look gorgeous and Pansy will not kick you out," he vowed. "Come on. We need to add our unnecessary gift to Pansy's growing Mount Everest of presents," he muttered sarcastically, his eyes glancing toward Pansy's throne and surrounding gifts.

Hermione had to suppress a chuckle. She let him lead her through the crowd of dancers and towards the birthday girl. Why had she let him drag her into this? She was going to be found out, made fun of for wearing Gryffindor colors, get called a Mudblood and will probably have her face smiling off the front cover of the Daily Prophet the next morning for dating Draco. Even when their relationship was fictitious, they kept it low key, not publicizing it for jeopardizing Draco's position as a Death Eater, and for Hermione's sake as well. Seeing as Pansy was all about paparazzi though, they would probably make the front page of the Daily Prophet.

"Uh oh Hermione," Draco moaned. Up ahead, a psycho looking Pansy was hissing at Justin Finch-Fletchley who had come with his pureblood girlfriend Astoria Greengrass.

"Astoria, I thought we were friends," Pansy seethed at Astoria and her older sister Daphne who was making her way through the on-lookers to her younger sister. "How could you bring your Mudblood boyfriend to my birthday party, much less _date _a Mudblood?" She sneered.

Justin looked like a deer caught in headlights, Astoria and Daphne had promised to try and reason with Pansy once she discovered him, but so far, they looked as scared as he.

"I – I think I should just go Astoria," he stuttered from under Pansy's daggers and quickly dropped off his gift and bounded away through the parted crowd.

"Yeah that's right Justin Finch-Fletchley! You better get out of here before I hex your balls off!" she called after him. "Astoria, how could you do this? Betraying your family by dating a Mudblood. And a Hufflepuff to boot. Who do you think you are?" Pansy hollered, loud enough to attract the photographers over her way. "I think I shall spare you and let you stay the remainder of my party, but only because I _know_ you won't slip up again," she sent a knowing look straight into Astoria's eyes that made her spine shiver, "and because Daphne has been my friend for all these years." And with that, Pansy sat back down and resumed smiling for the flashing cameras.

"Oh boy," Draco gave a low whistle. "That'll be on the front page tomorrow." He tiredly brushed a hand through his growing hair. "How about I'll go give her the gift and talk to Daphne and Astoria. They look like they're going to have a mental breakdown. You stay here; I don't want to risk Pansy recognizing you after that whole fiasco." Without another word, Draco slipped in between dancers and headed up to Pansy. He exchanged a few muttered words, then disappeared to find the Greengrass's. With a sigh, Hermione brushed her hair out of her face, it had been sleeked down like when she did it for the Yule Ball, but only a small portion of it was pinned back with a shimmering gold pendant that went well with her new hair color. She turned around to find something to drink and only got three steps from where she had been when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hello," a sickly sweet voice said from behind.

Hermione almost had a heart attack when she recognized Pansy's voice. "Oh, hello. Happy birthday Pansy," Hermione tried to kiss up and be nice to the snobbish girl.

"Who might you be?" Pansy asked with genuine curiosity. She had never known someone to be so bold as to wear red (her most hated color) to her own birthday party and actually come across Pansy as a nice girl.

"Oh, I'm Saiph."

"Hm…I don't recall inviting a Saiph. But you look like a nice girl so I won't kick you out," Pansy said, flashing a fake smile. "So, have you heard about Potter, Granger, and Weasley? I heard that Potter ditched the golden trio to go into hiding. Some people say that he left that blood-traitor Weasley girl behind for some pretty muggle girl," Pansy lowered her voice on that last note. Saiph's green eyes flashed through hazel to a warm brown and back and her hair started curling drastically, but only Pansy noticed. "But not as pretty as I," Pansy almost challenged. She wasn't surprised to see the girls disguise fading when angered. She herself had gone through plenty of disguises at Hogwarts, just to be a new face for Draco's bed. She figured out that whenever Draco insulted her, her disguise would falter, but Draco never knew any different. Whenever someone's emotions got out of control, their disguise faded. Pansy had a thought on who this Saiph might be, but had to be sure.

"Right, not as gorgeous as you," Saiph responded uninterestedly as she thought about the news of what Pansy had told her. Harry leaving Ginny for some muggle girl. She didn't even think Harry _knew_ any muggle girls because his aunt and uncle were very strict on his interaction with muggles during the summer.

"Oh, and that mudblood Granger, she's such a know-it-all bi-" Saiph's disguise faded completely this time and Pansy caught her. She had the Gryffindor Princess disguised as a courageous redhead at her mercy.

"Here, come over here." Pansy found an empty table with a great view of Draco and the Greengrass's and led Hermione through her guest to get to it. "Have a seat."

Pansy purposefully took the seat with the back to Draco as to force Hermione to sit in the perfect viewing position. Hermione eyed her warily; she had been through enough to know not to just trust your enemy. Still believing that Pansy knew her to be Saiph, she asked, "Why do you want to talk to me?

"Oh, I just thought you looked like the type of girl interested in the lasted gossip," she said nonchalantly, purposely evading the topic of Hermione, "about hot guys. Do you see the tall, pale, blond boy over there talking to Astoria and Daphne? That's Draco Malfoy if you didn't know," Pansy explained, even though she very well knew that 'Saiph' knew Draco. "He and I have been extremely close. Draco and Daphne had always been my only real friends even though I have always favored him over Daphne. The only reason I'm letting her and her sister stay is because I would get bad publicity for kicking out Draco's fiancé." Hermione's eyes swelled to an enormous side that pushed her eyebrows out of view under her hair. When Pansy saw Hermione's expected response, she knew that she had this girl at her mercy.

"Hi – his fiancé?" Hermione stuttered. She didn't know whether to be mad at this bint for lying, or be mad a Draco for lying, or to feel heartbroken. She felt a strong mix of the three. She decided to believe that Pansy was telling the truth, because even though he didn't bear an engagement ring, that meant nothing to pureblooded arranged marriages. "Which one?" she silently whispered, putting on a mask of interest, as if this was the juiciest bit of scandalous gossip that she'd heard, not the kind showing her as a cheated-on girlfriend. She tried to ignore the thumping in her chest. He couldn't be engaged, could he?

"It's Astoria. The Malfoy's and Greengrasses had their marriage arranged a few weeks ago, I think. I believe it happened sometime after their prisoner's escaped the Manor," Pansy continued in her innocent act. "I heard it didn't go over very well. You see, at first Astoria was screaming and crying like a baby because she didn't want to marry Draco. I personally think she's gone rotten in the head because seriously. Who wouldn't want to marry Draco, the Slytherin Sex God and the guy whose got galleon's coming out his rear end he's so stinking rich! Anyway, it seemed that Draco really wanted it to work out between them, so he just waited out the storm while her parents calmed her down. She finally gave in, but only if they could have a long engagement. She also wanted to keep it hush-hush, only family and close friends could know. I think she wanted to put it off until after the war so they could cancel the engagement. Plus, she's still in school anyway. Wouldn't want your wedding ring messed up if someone spilled their acidic potion on you!"

Hermione was slowly letting herself absorb this. She couldn't believe it! Draco was the world's biggest prat! That was probably where he went right after he kidnapped her! To arrange his engagement with Astoria. This time, her heart put its energy into feeling anger, resentfulness, hate, and betrayal.

"If that's true, then why was Astoria with Justin tonight?" Hermione glanced over at Draco whose outreached hand was clasped around Astoria's wrist. It seemed that Astoria wanted to get away, but he wouldn't let her. The pain stabbed her chest.

"Oh, that was another one of her conditions. One she didn't discuss while their parents were present," Pansy's voice got dangerously low. "She agreed to marry him _if _the Dark Lord won. If Potter came out on top, she would call it off. This particular piece of news surprised Draco. He reluctantly agreed to it though, and said he'd date too, just so it doesn't look weird to the public though. He told me that whoever he dated between then and their actual wedding would mean nothing to him," Pansy recalled, and smile of evil glee spreading on her pug face.

Hermione struggled to keep the appearance of nonchalance, so she looked around the room at the happy dancing couples. _They_ probably didn't feel betrayed. _They_ probably didn't feel a gaping hole in their chest. _They_ probably didn't feel as if that one person you truly gave your heart to ripped it out in seconds. _They_ probably didn't know what she was feeling. She passed over the arguing trio and her gaze made its way to the door. What she saw made her heart fill with happiness and her features light up with joy.

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**Sorry about that cliffhanger there! I just thought that that would be a good ending place, otherwise this chapter might've been three times as long! As always, please review!**


	11. AN

**A/N**

**I am sorry for not updating in forever! Trust me (teehee) I have not abandoned this story, I've just been EXTREMELY BUSY with homecoming, plays, parades, and yada yada yada. I intend to finish the next chapter here soon, so don't worry about me taking another month. I do realize that a bunch of people have added me to their favorite stories list, or favorite author, or signed up for alerts, and so I thank you greatly. It's always a pleasure to check my email and see that someone has added me for one thing or another. Also, I would like to give a great big shout out to everyone who has reviewed my first fanfic! It really helps and encourages me to write more when I know that there are people out there who don't just look at my story, but actually read it and have something to say about it. I really appreciate those people who take the time to write a little something about my story. I always want to know what people think about my story, so all reviews are wanted and welcomed.**


	12. A Letter from Snape

**Okay, so sorry this chapter took forever (it took me a while to write and research as well) but here it is! Review pretty please as always, I want to know what you think of the story! Anyway...onward to reading!**

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"Harry, do ya really have to leave now? Isn't there anything else we can do to make you stay?" Seamus pleaded.

"Not really guys. I appreciate your help, but I really have to finish this myself." Harry replied stonily. The day thus far had not gone as planned. He was supposed to sneak out through Hogsmeade, go to the outskirts of town under his invisibility cloak, then apparate to the next possible location for a horcrux. Instead, Seamus just had to hear him and start this inept argument.

Just as Harry was about to shove Seamus out of the way, Neville came bursting through the door wheezing. "Harry…I…you…see…this…Snapes…desk…Malfoy…" was all Neville got out between pants.

"Whoa, slow down there Neville. Take deep breaths." Seamus instructed, hoping that whatever it was it would make Harry stay. "Now what was that about Snape and Malfoy?"

"I was in Snape's office rummaging through his cabinets when I found this letter addressed to Mr. Malfoy. I haven't read it yet, I thought that you might want to see it first. I guess Snape didn't get a chance to owl it before he died." Neville handed him the piece of parchment, slightly damp with Neville's sweat.

_Lucius, _

_I have been informed that you are in possession of the Ouroboros. You must keep it hidden in the event that Dumbledore somehow managed to inform Harry of it. I am very doubtful that Dumbledore could relay that information, but you still need to keep watch. I do realize that the crocodiles from Abraxas's reign are more efficient than your peacocks, so try to keep it safe. If Potter got his hands on it, then he'd be invincible; bearing the symbol for eternity, the cycle of life. Even if you do not know the ring's full power, do not ask me to enlighten you. Even so, keep Potter away from the Ouroboros, or he will become the Boy that Lived – a second time._

_~Severus_

Three sets of eyes widened, and three jaws dropped to the floor.

"Do you know what this means Harry? Grams used to talk about an ancient symbol that meant infinity. She called it an Ouroboro and said it was created by Gematria Archaíos, the very first wizard. Gematria was greek, and studied philosophy, and the deeper meaning of the world. Her name Gematria is actually the term for exploring the purportedly deeper meaning of Hebrew words. It's said that she was so spiritually detached from the material world, that she found the place where magic originates and was able to harness some for herself. Anyway, she created the Ouroboro symbol, an alchemical serpent, the basilisk, with its own tail in its mouth. It's supposed to symbolize a magical barrier or circle of protection and represents eternal life and perfection."

By now the realization of the power of the ring dawned on the trio.

"Harry, if you found this ring, you could be unstoppable! You could never die as long as you wear it! The ultimate Avada shield!" Seamus exclaimed.

"Yes…" Harry trailed off in thought. If he could obtain this Ouroboro ring, he could be invincible until he destroyed the last Horcrux.

"Wait Harry, there was something else Grams said. She mentioned that the Ouroboro separates itself from everything else. Going back to the magical barrier of protection, it means that whoever wears the ring is magically separated from the rest of the universe. So if you were to wear this thing Harry, you'd be immortal. The alchemical part of it is that it's the harmony of opposites; so if you were Avada'd while wearing it, you would 'die' then come back to life as you were, and the caster would do the opposite. He would die."

"That's great Harry! Now all you have to do is find this thing, then let Voldemort have at ya, then bam! He won't know what hit him!"

"That is absolutely brilliant Neville! The ultimate weapon against Voldemort! But I do wonder how the Malfoy's came to own it." Harry pondered.

"Well, it's said that Abraxas Aurinko, a Finnish blacksmith, worked with Gematria to forge the ring. He was supposed to create a second for her, but he stole the first and went into hiding. It's also been said that Abraxas Aurinko is Malfoy's ancestor. That's probably why they have it."

()()()()()()()()

All of the heartbreak that she had experienced in the past 10 minutes melted away into just a memory at the sight of him. All of her worries, her doubts, and her stress were lifted from her at the sight of his smiling face. As she pushed her way through the crowd, completely forgetting about Pansy, she noticed that his blue eyes were alight with desire making her push forwards even harder. It wasn't until she almost ran into her that she noticed that his loving smile wasn't for her, but for someone else. She tried to stop from running into an Asian looking girl who seemed to purposely step in front of her, but her heels decided differently and sent her stumbling. She knocked into the girls shoulder and mumbled a sorry. Hermione looked up into the face of the Asian girl and was stunned by her beauty. Her jet black hair was up in a beautifully crafted chignon with bangs side swept to the left, slightly covering her piercing green eye. She had high cheekbones and bright red lips. She wore little make-up, and when Hermione stepped away, she saw that she was wearing a dark green cocktail dress that was so short it was barely classified as a dress.

"Watch what you're doing," she snarled, not hearing Hermione's first apology.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. Hermione straightened her dress and turned to see Ron glaring down at her with all the hate in the world. Her happiness dissipated into thin air and an all too familiar feeling washed over her. The familiar tingle in her gut arrived, saying that she did something wrong. She only could wonder what was wrong when Ron spat at her.

"Watch what you're doing mudblood!" he said. Ron grabbed the girl's arm and dragged her away. Hermione stood there dumbfounded at the encounter. The truth to his words and the menace he said them with hadn't fully sunk in yet. Just before the girl finally disappeared from view, Hermione swore she saw her wink.

"Her name is Lorelei," Pansy whispered in her ear. Hermione jumped at her presence. "Her father is Death Eater Avery, and her mother is said to be almost as mad as Bellatrix. The Weasel was captured and sent toMaia Avery and when he would not break, she sent in her daughter. It was an instant connection. He became oblivious to anything and everything around him; his whole world was concentrated into one point – her," Pansy murmured, serious as she walked around to Hermione's front. "They've been dating ever since." She remarked as though it was yesterday's news.

Tears started to well up in her eyes, but Hermione blinked them away, not wanting to let Pansy see. She stole a glance over at Draco who had apparently given up on Astoria by the way she stalked out of the room. Draco muttered a quick apology to Daphne then made his way over to Hermione. _Keep cool. You don't want to make a scene_.

"Ah, Saiph, I see you've met Miss Parkinson," Draco smoothly said.

"Yes, I have been introduced. We were just gossiping before you came over." Hermione said icily. A small glimmer of surprise registered in his eyes, but his face gave nothing away.

"Dance with me?" Draco held out his arm.

_Don't make a scene. Don't make a scene. Just play it cool until we leave._ Hermione chanted over and over in her head while her mouth said sure. A new song started just as he dragged her out on the dance floor, a slow song to be exact, so he pulled her close, hugging her to his chest. She was inhaling his cologne, his sweet, sweet cologne, its intoxicating scent pulling her under his spell. Her stiff arms around his neck slowly loosened, and she relaxed a little more under his touch. Draco stroked her hair while he led her through the dance. Hermione let herself look up at him, and when he looked down upon her with his half smirk, half smile that she loved, her resolve almost gave way, because aside from his smile, his normally steely eyes were like quicksilver, totally revealing, with no lies or secrets clouding them.

_Don't let him get to you. It's all a ploy, he's only using you._ She told herself, trying to spare her heart, which felt like it was collapsing in on itself, making her take short, gasping breaths as though she was crying. But whether she let herself believe his lies, or let him go, she was going to cry anyway from heartbreak in this lose-lose situation.

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**So, tell me what you thought about this chapter, or story in general. I should tell you that most everything Grams told Neville was true, except for Gematria Archaios, though I did find the name Gematria, and Aurinko were made up. There really was a solar god whose name was Abraxas who was involved with the creation of the Ouroboros, so I just implemented him into my story. I know this chapter was fairly short, but what's coming up next should make up for it. This chapter is dedicated to a lot of people: Alex, Dalton, Kyle, and Stephanie who indirectly helped me write Hermione's emotions. In Alex's words, "It's like watching a puppy fall off a cliff."**


	13. The Ouroboros

**Alrighty then, another chapter up and running! I'm almost not sure who to dedicate this to, so I'm dedicating it to everyone out there that actually has read this story! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, though the next one should be even better! I'm just gonna shut up now and get on with the story, so please read and review! I always wanna know what you think!**

**WARNING: A word of caution because this chapter has a few bad words in it...well, they're bad words in my book so I'm warning you just to be safe.**

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A solitary tear slid down Hermione's cheek, prompting Draco to ask her what was wrong, in that horribly seductive voice. "Nothing." She muttered. She didn't even know what she was doing here because everything that was Draco Malfoy, was a lie. She had implicitly trusted him, and now that she thought back, it was against all logic. She had no reason to trust him, and yet she did anyway, fully, and without reservations and she couldn't think of why. Now that she'd witnessed him chasing after another girl after their unspoken understanding of a mutual feeling of love had been expressed, she didn't think that she could ever believe him again. And now, with Ron's betrayal…well, she didn't want to think about that. Hermione was about to burst from all of these emotions, and being near Draco wasn't exactly helping. She had to get away from him before she did something stupid.

"I need to sit." Hermione mumbled. _Anything to get away from him_. She pushed against his chest, hard enough that he stumbled back, and felt the tears really start falling.

"Hermione!" Draco cried out to her. She made the mistake of looking over her shoulder to see him pushing through the crowd to her – just another one of his fake testaments. Hermione started sobbing now, her tears momentarily blinding her and sending her stumbling into her second least favorite person – Ron.

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Ron turned around just as Hermione barreled into him, knocking him into Lorelei who spilled her wine all over her dress. He was about to make another rude remark when he saw her bawling her eyes out in his arms, the arms that she had fallen into. Seeing his best friend of the past seven years in her weakest moment, the strong, brave, Hermione broken, crying in his clutches trying to free herself, momentarily broke something inside Ron. Al l thoughts of Lorelei vanished from his mind, and he actually remembered that he used to care for this weeping girl.

"Hermione! Wait, what happened?" Ron futilely tried holding on to her, but she was scratching his arm raw and he had to let go.

"Leave me alone you bastard! I never want to see you again!" Hermione screamed as she continued away.

A stunned Ron turned back around to a fuming Lorelei, her beauty not marred in the slightest by her anger. The moment he saw her though, he turned back into the lovesick puppy, though a nagging feeling in the back of his mind wouldn't let him forget about Hermione.

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Draco finally caught up with Hermione; he grabbed her wrist, perhaps too hard though because she let out a whimper of pain. "Hermione! What's wrong?" Draco pleaded. He was only barely aware of the accumulating glances from the guests at hearing her name.

"No! Let go of me!" Hermione cried. She just wanted to get away from all the embarrassment, away from all the lies.

"No." he said firmly. "Not until you tell me what's wrong." He pulled her closer and trapped her other wrist in his. She was completely at his mercy, well that is unless she kneed him in the groin, then he'd be at her mercy. "Now tell me why you ran away from me."

Hermione refused to look at him. "Because you lie. You are a lying, cheating, manipulative git!" Hermione screamed. She started pounding on his chest and dared to peek up at his face. If she was going to do this, she might as well get one last look at the face that had haunted her dreams and memories. She peered up at him, seeing disbelief and hurt.

"What? What are you talking about Hermione?" He said incredulously.

"Oh don't play stupid Malfoy. You know exactly what I'm talking about. The whole engagement-to-Astoria-but-we-can-still-date-other-people-and-not-really-have-feelings-for-them-until-the-war-is-over-thing." Hermione accused, surprised that she got that out in one breath because she was having those hiccoughed breaths from crying.

"Wait. What are you talking about?" Draco asked.

"Pansy told me everything! She said that the only reason she let Daphne and Astoria stay here is that it would cause bad publicity for _your_," she punctuated with a jab to his chest, "fiancé. She told me that your engagement was arranged a few weeks ago, about the same time you first kidnapped me. Apparently, Astoria didn't want to marry you, but you wanted to make it work out. She finally agreed to a long engagement – until the end of the war to be exact. She said that she would marry you if the Dark Lord won, but if not, then she would marry whom she chose. And _you_," another blow to the chest, "proposed that you would both date other people until then so it wouldn't seem weird for the public because your engagement was kept secret! You never meant to have feelings for me, even if Astoria really does love Justin. That's why you were going after her today!"

"That's not true! I never told Pansy anything! Hermione! Wait!" Draco pushed through his way through the growing crowd at hearing one of the Golden Trio's names, but seeing a mix of Saiph and Hermione.

"Just stay away from me!" she screeched, stumbling towards the door.

"Hermione! Please! I – I love you!"

That stopped Hermione, almost changed completely back to herself. She took one last tear stained look at the man who teased and tormented her, broke her heart, then claimed he loved her before she ran for the foyer. She heard his muffled words float over her head with a stream of orange-ish light aimed at the front door. She tried to stop herself from running straight into it without falling, but instead of hitting the mahogany double doors, she passed right through them and landed face first on Draco's too plush, green bed.

"Damn him that prat!" Hermione screamed in frustration. She ripped her heels off, flinging them on the bed next to her forgotten diary. She saw Draco coming through the portal that was actually at his bathroom door, and took off out of the room.

"Hermione please! Let me explain!" Draco huffed as he stepped through the portal, leaving behind an awestruck audience at a Malfoy chasing after a girl, much less a muggle born.

Draco growled in frustration; why did he have to fall for the most stubborn witch of all time? _Because we always want what we can't have_. And if he failed, the Dark Lord would make sure that he _never_ could have her. He ran his fingers through his already mused hair, examining the room. His eyes roved over everything, looking for anything that might help distract him.

_Granger's diary._ He thought, reverting back to her surname in his agitation.

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The great manor loomed up in front of him, its turrets, parapets, and balustrades. The atmosphere here at Malfoy Manor was quite ominous and depressing; no wonder Malfoy was such a horrid child. Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and donned his invisibility cloak, slipping through the rusty gates. _Follow the peacocks_. Okay, sure. At least that's better than following the spiders. Before he had left, Neville and Seamus had kidnapped Goyle, dragging the heavy lump into the Room of Requirement. Harry had thoroughly interrogated him, on everything about Malfoy Manor that he knew. The only interesting thing that he fessed up was that the Malfoy's had a strange habit of always keeping albino animals around the grounds. When Draco's grandfather was still alive, they had been albino crocodiles, Draco had the scars to prove that. Lucius had installed peacocks and apparently they still roamed the desolate yard. Harry felt utterly lost. Just inside the gates was a giant hedge maze, a little too like the one they used in the Triwizard Tournament. _At least the Malfoy's don't keep sphinxes here. Well, at least I hope they don't._ Harry wandered for what seemed like miles inside the giant maze until he came across a small clearing full of peacocks. A large cherry blossom tree took up one whole corner.

"Well, this seems like the place, but where do I go from here?" he voiced silently. Apparently, he hadn't been silent enough because every single peacock looked in his direction. One by one, they started advancing, completely confident that there was someone there. Before Harry had time to whip out his wand, they got really vicious and started attacking him. A few of them nipped through his shoes that peeked under the cloak and bit his toes. Another one managed to latch onto the cloak and started dragging it down. He yanked off his cloak and threw the peahen into the trunk of the tree and started firing stunning spells at the albinos. Once they realized that he was going to have the upper hand, they started retreating; just went stiff and turned and ran off into the maze. _Oh boy._ Before Harry could get lost, he sprinted after the surprisingly fast creatures.

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Harry ran past endless maze walls, not really noting where he was going, and which turns he was making, more intent on not losing the peacocks rather than a way back out of the maze. The further he ran, the more the ground seemed to slope downwards. He didn't think it was possible, but soon enough, he found the hedges slowly giving way to cold stone walls, and the neatly trimmed grass turning into a worn dusty stone path. Overhead, the tunnel seemed to stretch higher, meaning that he was deeper underground than he originally imagined. He had lost sight of the peacocks by now, but the tunnel only went in one direction, so he slowed his pace to a brisk walk. Eventually the passageway widened out into a large cavernous space, almost as large as the great hall. It had high vaulted ceilings and torches rimmed the walls. At about Harry's knee height, miniature arches made depressions all along the bottom of wall of the room. And there, in the center on an old wooden pedestal, sat the Ouroboros, in a small glass box.

Harry cautiously walked up to the pedestal, wary of any booby traps. It couldn't be this easy, could it? Just take it and run? He looked down at it, through the crystal box, the sort, had it been velvet, would be the type that an expensive ring would sit in, probably used for an engagement. However, the Ouroboros was nothing, if not entrancing. It was rather plain at first glance, but upon closer inspection, the dragon looked almost as if it were alive, the tiny chest rising and falling as it slumbered. In the dingy lighting, it looked a dirty bronze, but when he didn't focus on looking at it, he could tell that the scales kept shifted colors, mostly staying gold, bronze, and silver, but sometimes shifting to red, or green. He carefully opened the case and picked up what he expected to be a cold, too big ring, but in fact, it was warm, almost too warm to the touch. It filled him with a sort of happiness, a sense of calmness and serenity. Since nothing had happened yet, he decided to slip it on, but not until after he realized that it would be too big to fit his slim finger. To his bewilderment, the dragon blinked its onyx eyes and seemed to yawn. It was actually swallowing more of its tail, making itself the perfect fit for his middle finger. Just as the last adjustment was made, a loud hissing noise sliced through the otherwise silent room. The small arches that Harry noticed earlier rose up, letting out the ostentation of albino peacocks, mad as ever, blocking the tunnel. Another, taller arch, rose up, exposing a staircase leading up. Harry had nowhere else to, so he clambered up the stairs.

The peacocks seemed to stop following him at the bottom of the stairs, but he needed a way out anyway so he kept flying up the stairs.

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Hermione was completely and utterly lost. She had never known Malfoy Manor to be so large, and at that, so uniform. Every hallway looked almost identical to the last, except for a few sleeping portraits. Every doorway led into a room or hallway that seemed identical to the last. _Draco probably knows his way around a lot better than I do. I'll have to keep moving._ Hermione swept past a portrait of Abraxas Malfoy, unknowingly waking him up in her wake. The old Malfoy stretched from his silver throne just in time to see her make an abrupt turn to the right. He caught just enough of her slim figure and bushy hair to figure out that it was the infamous Hermione Granger, part of the Golden Trio that always bested Draco in Hogwarts. He was eager to alert the Dark Lord about her presence because when his coward of a grandson was told to turn her in, he was secretly lingering in the background of what was supposed to be an unanimated painting. Even though he resented his son for being so cowardly, he still wanted to do him a favor, repay him for when Philip the crocodile almost devoured him whole. That had really set off his daughter-in-law's temper. And you do _not_ want to see Narcissa Malfoy's temper. She nearly hexed his balls off, and she would have succeeded if not for Lucius stepping in, taking the curse to his leg, hence the ridiculous cane.

Abraxas strode to over to Anyse Avery's portrait, and told her to alert her daughter-in-law, Maia, of Miss Granger's whereabouts and to have her alert the Dark Lord. Anyse yawned and blinked at the nice surprise of Abraxas visiting her.

"Is that all I'm good for Abraxas? I'm not an owl you know." She stated in her rough voice. She left him with an abrupt _hmph_ and walked to her other portrait to her son's home.

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"Anyse. What a pleasant surprise." Maia said dryly. "What do you want?" she asked when the crone stared at her with those soulless blue eyes.

"Oh, I want nothing. I've been sent by ole Abraxas to inform you that a Miss Granger was last seen at Malfoy Manor and that you are to alert the Dark Lord. You may come to watch."

"Lorelei!" Maia yelled. "Do you or Mr. Weasley know a Miss Granger?"

Lorelei's heels clicked as she sauntered down the hall with Ron in tow. "Hermione Granger?" she hissed. She had not forgotten the wine incident at Pansy's party; she had just removed the stain after leaving early. "Yes. Ron here has a _history_ with _Miss Granger_," she seethed through clenched teeth.

"Oh good. We've been invited to watch the Dark Lord torture her. Or at least I hope he will," she speculated. Maia drew up the gold sleeve on her left arm, just enough to show the Dark Mark. She pressed it with her forefinger, watching as it bulged up like a snake moving under her skin. As she watched it settle, she reached over for Lorelei and Ron, and with that they apparated to Malfoy Manor.

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**Ooo a cliffhanger! How I love ending with those! Anyways, review and tell me what you think! The more reviews I get, the faster I can get the next chapter up!**


	14. Malfoy Manor

**Okay, sorry for the looong wait time. This scene is just taking a while to plan out and write...I'm still not quite done with it yet. So I have split the scene into 2 chapters [it would've been really long if I left it together anyways]. I've spent a whole bunch of time thinking about the best way to portray this, so I hope you enjoy it!**

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All she could do was stare at the blue and green eyes, having nothing alike except for their cold steeliness in their own respective colors. All traces of what had happened earlier that night were erased from Ron's features, his face seemingly frozen in an eternal state of derision at her. Ron, Lorelei, and an older woman who shared Lorelei's black hair and piercing green eyes stood in front of the main entryway to the foyer, the place Bellatrix Lestrange almost killed her. Hermione noticed that the Malfoy's had not yet replaced the chandelier. The older woman had a certain grace about her, poised with her button nose turned upward, with her shorter, curlier hair thrown back across her shoulder. She, like Narcissa, had a timeless beauty to her, instead of making her look old, several deeper set wrinkles added even more to her looks. A streak of silver showed that she didn't fear old age, she embraced it, and the way she looked at Hermione said that she would embrace anything with open arms, including madness.

The four had stood there in total silence for at least a minute before Lorelei gasped in shock. Hermione barely had time to gape herself as she turned around to see Draco barrel into her.

"Hermione, please let me explain," he murmured into her hair as he pulled her closer, not taking any notice to the shell-shocked expressions on Maia and Lorelei's faces and the dumbfounded one on Ron's.

"No," she emphasized with a shove. "You are done explaining, and I am done listening!" Hermione let her anger take over as she shoved him into the wall. She sped to another potential exit; if it wasn't, she was screwed over three-fold. Right as she reached for the door knob, it burst open, almost hitting her square in the face.

"Harry?" Hermione choked out.

"Her-Hermione?" Harry stuttered. He peered around her shoulder. Whatever he had been expecting, it surely wasn't this assembly of Hermione, Ron, Draco, and a beautiful Asian with whom he assumed was her mother. He stumbled back slightly when Hermione threw her arms around him. Even though his mind was still processing what he was seeing, he still hugged her back, who had now started sobbing into his shoulder.

"Hermione, please, can you tell me what happened and why everyone is at Malfoy Manor?" He asked, Draco's glare to kill not going unnoticed by him.

"I – "

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Hermione turned around in Harry's arms at the snakelike voice who seemed to appear without the usual crack of apparition. "The Boy-Who-Lived, and his little Mudblood. And Maia, ever so nice to see you again." He nodded to her and Lorelei. "And here we are graced with the presence of the young Lord of the house, Draco Malfoy. How very nice of you to gather everyone up." Draco stared at Voldemort in horror, his silver eyes darting back and forth between Hermione and Voldemort. _Oh no oh no oh no oh no. This can't be happening. Not now!_

"Hermione, stand back. I know how to defeat Voldemort," Harry whispered in her ear, fully aware of everyone's eyes on him.

Her eyes widened in response, but slightly nodded anyway, glad to let someone else take charge and make the decisions, no matter how rash.

"Once I distract him, get Ron and get out of here," Harry muttered, unaware of the icy tension between his friends. He pulled her to the side, and faced Voldemort in all his snakelike glory.

Draco meanwhile fingered the soft leather behind his back. The tension in the room was so thick, with everyone glaring at each other, that he didn't think he could breathe. The Dark Lord seemed to be patiently awaiting Draco to just hand over the diary and turn her in, his eyes drilling straight into Draco's soul. He glanced over at Hermione who was standing defiantly behind Potter, who was ten times braver than he.

"Draco," Voldemort hissed. "Give me the diary. Give it to me now and your family will be redeemed. Ah, speaking of which." His pale hand gestured to Narcissa behind him who felt the dangerous atmosphere from the master suite where Lucius still slept. He flicked his wrist and the sleep-ridden Malfoy flew to his grasp. Potter took a step back. Draco knew that Potter understood that this was between Voldemort and him. Potter would get his turn.

_Oh god. If I don't give him the diary he will kill mum. And if I do, he'll kill Hermione. Or at least, deal with Potter before he kills her, so we might actually be able to escape._ So many different scenarios ran through Draco's frazzled head. They froze him to the spot, not that he had much mobility anyway because of the tension.

"Accio diary!" Voldemort barked.

"No!" Draco reached out for the rapidly retreated leather-bound diary. The one with the prophecies Voldemort wished so dearly to own.

Hermione grew wide-eyed at the sight of her diary flying straight for Voldemort's outstretched hand. _The prophecies!_ Hermione hadn't really taken the care to memorize them; she had just thought that she was hallucinating, or even over analyzing even after Snape's death. Although one particular prophesy slammed to the front of her mind, the realization of what Draco had just done dawned on her.

"Ah. Thank you Draco._ Petrificus Totalus!_" he shot at the young Malfoy, already frozen in terror. Narcissa shrieked as she struggled from Voldemort's grasp. With a loud thunk, Draco's rigid form hit the floor, his gray eyes wide, staring at the ceiling.

As much as she hated him, and regretted what had just happened with the diary, Hermione still couldn't help but run over to him, her knees sliding on the floor as she crouched over his still body, tears welling up at the corner of her eyes.

Harry advanced on Hermione, clearly confused as to his friends' actions, but only to be knocked back by a curse from Voldemort who was leafing through the well-worn pages of Hermione's diary. "Ah, here we are. _An object with power to match that of the Philosopher's Stone resides right under a place of great force. The guardian, white as a Patronus, strut over the grounds, using their force (similar to that of a Patronus) to shield the power so that it lay undetected by witches or wizards._ I think this applies to you," he snarled as he thrust his wand into her neck. "Mrs. Malfoy. Do you know what this prophecy is referring to?" he hissed, jamming it further into her throat.

"I-I don't know!" She wailed.

Hermione looked up at Narcissa, the woman who had, only a few days prior, been a happy, carefree, photography loving mother. She now was a mess; a panicky, hysterical look glazed her pale blue eyes as she watched her son lie stiff and frozen on the cold floor. Her lip had a slight tremble, and her hands clutched at Voldemorts pale arm that was thrusting the wand into her neck. She almost seemed to be pleading with Hermione, she knew that Hermione knew what the Dark Lord wanted, and she only wanted to at least save Draco, if not herself as well. Hermione slowly stood up.

Draco's eyes darted back and forth, from Potter crouched next to the door to the dungeons, to Weasley and the Averys. The evil half-veela had Weasley under her clutches now too; well, he deserved nothing less. Although what his ex-betrothed and her mother were doing here he had no idea. He glanced back over at Potter who almost had a look of sympathy for him. He whispered a spell and shot it at Draco and tossed a small shiny object at him; he could immediately feel his muscles relax and inhaled deeply. He was just about to get up when Potter's eyes widened. He wanted him to stay 'frozen' until the time was right, then get the hell out of there. So Draco let his body lay still, his muscles loose, but unmoving. He glanced over at what seemed to be a ring that shifted colors. He looked up to see Harry mouthing "put it on". Whilst Voldemort yanked Narcissa around to face Potter, he slipped it on. A sense of calm ease fell upon him.

"I do." Hermione announced. She hoped Voldemort couldn't call on her bluff, she just hoped her Gryffindor courage didn't leave her now.

"And I have it." Harry stepped forward, removing a ring she had not noticed before.

Hermione didn't know if he really had it, or if he was playing on her lie, but she decided to just go with it. "Would you like to explain, Harry?" she indicated the small ring, which she now noticed to be shifting colors.

"Yes. This ring here does have power to match the philosopher's stone, it is the ultimate immunity to any spell. I found it under Malfoy Manor, a place I would say is very powerful and full of ancient magic."

Something in Hermione's head clicked the pieces together. "And the guardians are the peacocks, the albino peacocks. That's why everyone in the Malfoy family always employed some sort of albino animal, they have protective powers." Hermione finished.

"This," Harry continued, "gives me invincibility. No spell you can throw at me will affect me." He stated calmly.

Voldemort whipped his wand out at Harry, letting Narcissa drop to the floor in a heap. He screamed Avada Kedavra, but instead of directing the killing curse at Harry, he aimed it at the defenseless Hermione, who had left her new wand upstairs in Draco's bedroom before they left for the party just hours earlier. Draco jumped up and shoved Hermione out of the way, getting clipped on the shoulder with the green jet of light instead. _So this is it. I'm dead._

Hermione fell to the floor, being pushed from behind by Draco whom she had thought petrified. By the feel of the dead weight on her calves, she knew he had been hit instead. She was in shock. A cold fist gripped her heart as she slowly pulled herself from under him, trying to evade the inevitable of looking at Draco's dead body. As she was turning, she heard a gasp from where Ron was standing. Somehow, the spell had rebound off of Draco and hit Maia Avery and killed her as well. Lorelei was keeled over her mother's body, tears smudging her mascara. Ron kept trying to comfort her only to be rudely shoved away. Voldemort had been knocked over, and was now struggling to get up. Narcissa still on the floor, tried crawling over to her son, tears streaking her face, but before she could get away, Voldemort backhanded her with a sharp smack sending her straight to the floor again. Apparently the curse had a wave that killed Maia, and knocked out Voldemort. A small groan came from behind her. Her heart jumped.

"Hermione?" Came Draco's wonderful, silky voice.

"Draco?" she whispered.

"Did you die too?" He groaned. All of his work for nothing.

"No." She squeaked. Tears started pouring out of her eyes as she reached over and tackled him in a hug. "I'm not dead, and you're not either!" she cried. The waterworks really started flowing now as she pulled him up in a sitting position and pressed herself into his shoulder. Draco was utterly confused. The last thing he remembered was pushing Hermione out of the way of Voldemort's killing curse, and then getting hit himself in the shoulder. Now, as he surveyed the room over Hermione's shoulder, he could see Voldemort himself staggering up, his mum lying still on the floor at the Dark Lord's feet, Potter sprawled against the wall, just now waking up and glancing over at him, and Lorelei hunched over her mother with Weasley hovering nervously nearby.

"Wha – what happened then?" he groaned. Hermione was suffocating him in a bear hug and something was tugging at his hand. He glanced down at the tugging sensation. The ring was growing bigger and changing from a lovely Slytherin green to a foul shade of Gryffindor red. Just as Hermione pulled away, the ring flew off and landed in Potter's outstretched palm. Searing pain shot up his arm into his hit shoulder, and his head felt as though a thousand gunmen were firing inside his head, giving him an agonizing headache. He started to feel woozy and went limp in Hermione's arms. His vision went dark around the edges; all he could see was Potter smiling at him sympathetically whilst slipping the ring back on his forefinger. His hearing started to fade as well, everything sounded as though it was being said through water. He could barely feel his body being laid down in the exact same spot he had been petrified in just a few minutes ago.

"Draco!"

His brain barely registered his name being called in a worriedly anguished cry. He didn't even notice the tears that splashed on his chest as his beloved leaned forwards to brush his bangs out of his fluttering eyes. The last thing he remembered was a tall, pale figure wrenching his Hermione off of him by her hair, and her screeching cry in pain.

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"No! Let me go! Draco!" Hermione screamed, clawing at Voldemort's arm, ignoring the small clumps of hair that he was pulling out.

"Shut up Mudblood or I'll Avada you!" He seethed.

"Hermione! Just stop, please!" Harry pleaded. "Just let her go. It's me you want." He stated calmly to the Dark Lord.

"Fine!" he spat in reply. "Lorelei! I expect you to deal with this Mudblood!" he hissed impatiently, ready to kill Potter, but allowing him a few simple last requests. He could always kill her later; it was Potter that was the most important one. "Take her!" he threw her to the ground forcefully.

"Come here sweetie!" Lorelei cackled in a sweetly sick voice. She dragged Hermione by the hair to the corner of the room next to the corpse of Maia. Any sign of that elegant beauty Hermione might've seen before was gone; in its place, a mask of cold, merciless beauty. This witch would do whatever she wanted with no regrets, no second thoughts, and no mercy whatsoever. How Ron could be smitten with this creature was beyond Hermione's understanding.

"Did I say you could cry, you stupid little Mudblood?" She sneered. She glanced at her perfectly manicured nails right before slapping Hermione across her left cheek, the sharp nails leaving four long, red welts.

Hermione sobbed even harder at the pain that slashed across her cheek and the salty tears that stung. She looked up to Ron for some sort of support, surely he couldn't be so enamored with a girl he just recently met, that he couldn't help his best friend of the last seven years. Still, when she looked into his eyes, all she saw was a cold, empty gaze back. No sympathy, no nothing.

"Ronald. Take her down to the dungeons. I'll deal with her later." Lorelei's voice was ice. Even Voldemort, the very personification of evil, stiffened at the sound of it. A sly grin spread across his face. Harry too froze, and his eyes widened, his glasses magnifying them even more. "Now."

Ron muttered _Incarcerous_. Thick black ropes shot out of his wand and bound Hermione, stretching so tight that it chafed her bare skin where her dress did not cover her. Instantly, she started struggling, making them coil more tightly around her.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU RONALD WEASLEY!" She screamed. "IF I EVER GET MY HANDS ON YOU I'LL KILL YOU SO HARD YOU'LL DIE TO DEATH!" She thrashed her legs and clipped him in the eye.

"Stupid little Mudblood. _Silencio_." He muttered, rubbing his now watering eye.

He scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. Hermione bounced against his back as he brushed past the bewildered Harry, and a smirking Dark Lord into the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.

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**How do you like it? Hopefully part 2 will be up soon!**


	15. The Truth

**Ah...I have finally reached the end. No need to fear though, there shall be an epilouge after this chapter. This chapter is dedicated to Dark_Side_Story for helping me through this story. Now...if I can persuade her to beta my next one!**

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"Now, where were we?" Voldemort drawled. "I think we were talking about that ring." For all intents and purposes, Voldemort just wanted to possess that ring. He couldn't be sure if Potter was lying, or telling the whole truth, but he felt this overpowering urge to have it. His Slytherin sense was telling him it wasn't a good idea; he'd never heard of such a ring before, and Potter may be calling a bluff. It was giving him a migraine.

"I have a proposition for you, _Harry_," Voldemort indicated.

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"Oomph!" Ron had removed the _Silencio_ right after securely locking the door and threw her to the ground.

"I'll be right back." Ron growled. He pulled his Deluminator out of the pocket of his suit and gave it a click. The dungeons lit up with a dazzling bright ball of light about the size of quaffle. It flew to the center of the room, floating up into an iron chandelier – by far not as elegant as the one that almost killed her, but still eye-catching. The ball of light floated by each candle, lighting them up before finally settling in the middle in a bigger flame. "Don't think about doing _anything_." He suggested maliciously before turning to walk back up the stairs.

The dim light cast long shadows behind the several stone columns running from the floor to the ceiling. Just beyond them, against the wall, were racks upon racks of various torture weapons. Whips, paddles, chains, rope, iron spikes, and countless other unidentifiable contraptions lay in the shadows. Not really thinking, Hermione scooted over to the nearest sharp item she could find, a spear of some sort. She reached her hands backwards, struggling to get the spear in between them, so she could cut the rope. She tediously worked her arms back and forth, trying to at least fray the thick rope.

As she sawed back and forth attempting to rid herself of the ropes, she wondered what had happened to her best friend. Sure, Ron could be an ignorant prat sometimes, but he had still known her far longer than the Death Eater's daughter. He would never go for someone so shallow – well, there was Lavender Brown, but he had already known her in school. This-this relationship between them was so surreal. She couldn't believe that he would ditch his friends in a heartbeat at the face of Voldemort himself for a girl who didn't even seem to like him! If he didn't snap out of this soon – if he actually did do something bad to her, she would never be able to forgive him. She had made up excuses for him long enough, but if he wasn't man enough to help his own friends, well, that was as unforgivable as one of the Unforgivables.

Ah! There we go! Hermione yanked the remaining rope off of her and slid into the shadows next to the ominous looking weapons. She was rubbing her wrists, when she heard Ron's heavy footsteps followed by lighter ones coming down the stairs. Hermione's breath caught in her chest; that girl Lorelei was coming too.

"I don't see her, Ronald." She snapped, throwing away pleasantries and cutting to the chase.

"Uh – uh….well….um, there's a whole lot of hiding places here," he stuttered. They turned towards her hiding spot, and Hermione's chest seized up; they were going to find her. But to her surprise, Ron just stared off into space while Lorelei grasped his shoulders and leaned in to kiss him. Oh god, she thought she would be sick, having to watch her best friend snog a girl who could care less about him! Despite what Hermione thought Ron would do, he actually engaged even more in the kiss, wrapping his fingers in her hair. After a few more seconds, Lorelei pulled back.

"Now, I agree that there are a lot of hiding places, but when I get back," Lorelei lowered her voice, "she'd better be dead." She turned on her stilettos and headed back up the stairs, the click of the heels getting softer as she neared the top.

"Hermione?" Ron called out softly. He was practically staring her in the eye, how could he not see her? "Hermione? Please come out. I'm not going to hurt you."

She didn't know if it was that she thought him to be the victim here, subject to Lorelei's cruel ways, or if it was that he called her name like he did back in school when he wanted her to check his Potions essay. Even though he hated checking Harry and Ron's homework, it was just so familiar that she decided to come out. Ron had turned around now and was taking something out of his pocket as she silently crept out of the shadows. Right before she could reach his shoulder, he clicked the Deluminator, and swung around and put her in a choke hold. She was too stunned to do anything but choke and claw at his arm which was wrapped around her neck.

"Wha – what are you doing?" Hermione spluttered.

"Here's the deal, you dirty little Mudblood. Either I kill you swiftly and painlessly, or Lor kills me, and then kills you slowly and painfully." He snarled. He jerked his arm farther up in her throat, leaving her gasping. "And I don't know about you, but I would prefer the first option." He hissed. He let go of her throat only to brutally shove her forwards into the endless darkness. She stumbled along and fell to her knees, right below the protruding spear that she had used to free herself earlier.

Hermione blindly crawled away from the deadly point and Ron, backing herself up against a wall. She heard Ron lurch towards her hiding spot, but he didn't seem to see her. Then again, she couldn't even see her hand in front of her face, so how could Ron see her several steps away. His footfall was softer as he walked away from her. The sharp noise of metal sliding against metal was heard as Ron drew a particularly nasty double ended shank that pressed into his palm until a thin line of warm blood oozed from it. He stalked back over to her, the shank poised over his head.

She could hear his footsteps grow closer to her, her heart beat erratically as she tried to imagine how she could get out of this alive. Every step closer reminded her of the friend she once had in him, of any possible future she might have imagined with him before she got kidnapped and started developing feelings for her captor. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out the unfamiliar, unforgivable black to her own comforting darkness behind her eyelids, where she always had the ability to open them back to the world. But in this case, all she got was more black emptiness.

She reacted even before she heard the whistle of Ron's weapon slice through the impenetrable black. She dived to the right, rolling out into open space, scraping herself on the small pebbles that littered the floor here and there. Ron made a feral grunt as he pulled his shank out of the wall, right where Hermione had been cowered just a second ago. She scrambled blindly to another rack of decidedly pointy objects of torture. She gingerly felt each one for somewhere safe to grip, all the while her heightened sense of sound made her stiffen at every little noise. She finally gripped the hilt of an ancient katana, long forgotten by the current master of the house. She lay still, listening for any sign of Ron's movement, her heart jumping erratically around her ribcage. She slowly unsheathed the weapon, amazed at how long it was. She carefully stepped back so she could yank it out the rest of the way. It came out with a slight swish and made her stumble backwards into Ron's back.

She jumped out of her skin and let out an ear piercing scream. She swung the sword around on reflexes; it was surprisingly light, so it went faster than she anticipated and buried itself in Ron's arm. His howl of pain jolted her out of her reverie at what she'd done. She yanked the sword out of his right bicep and couldn't stop her heart and breathing from hitching. The katana clattered to the floor.

"Oh Ron, I – I – uh, didn't mean to!" she was barely able to breathe her chest was so restricted in fear of what he might do. She could smell the thick, suffocating metallic smell of the copious amounts of blood that surged out of his arm. The loud splatters of blood filled the deafening silence and made Hermione all the more nauseous.

She heard a faint click then immediately Ron's face was dimly illuminated. His face looked like death; sallow, pale cheeks, lank, dirty hair hung in his ghost-like eyes set above his mouth that was set in a grim line. "You'll pay for this Granger. Oh, you'll pay." Another click and his face disappeared.

Hermione had always thought damsels in distress senseless in scenes where they had plenty of time to get away from the enemy, but stayed frozen in terror, waiting for their Prince Charming to rescue them. She had scoffed at them before, but now being in their position, an old friend hell-bent on killing her with various torture weapons in a locked, pitch dark basement, she reassessed her opinion of them. Now that it was her, shocked still by his words and her actions, her fear permeated the atmosphere around her, adding more to the impenetrable darkness. She couldn't count on Draco to rescue her; he was unconscious upstairs, probably dead now if Voldemort had his way, and she would be also if she didn't do something fast. Her rational mind, as small as it was at the moment, told her to look for a weapon. There was no way she could survive this without killing Ron first.

She feebly attempted to carefully feel around for a suitable weapon which was not working well with her shaking hands. She needed something light so she could carry it, short enough that she could control it and something deadly enough that she could do the deed in a single swipe, as much as hated Ron right now, she still couldn't bear to see him suffer. Her shaking hands led her to cut herself numerous times on the various torture weapons. She finally came across what felt like a _pata_, an Indian sword, or otherwise known as an English gauntlet. It had what felt like a single small stone set in the hilt, and was about 30 centimeters in length. Perfect. Gripping the sturdy weapon, she turned around, staring off into the abyss futilely trying to detect where Ron was. She carefully started forwards, swinging the pata around in front of her, clearing the way like a blind person does with their walking stick. _I might as well _be_ blind for all I can see._ She didn't even take five steps when two strips of fire burst from nowhere. She could barely see Ron outlined, holding the two flaming broadswords, a grimace set upon his face. Well, this was unexpected. It _did _give her the advantage though, she could always see where he was and he couldn't see her.

He stalked closer, the flames dancing around creating shadows perhaps even more eerie than the pitch black. He finally lunged at her, the fiery blades whizzing towards her. She threw up her pata in defense and the force of the impact sent reverberations through her body. He didn't let her respite, he swung again, this time farther down and although she caught the sword on her right, the other made a clean, burning cut into her left thigh, right above the knee. The metal was searing as he pulled back out, but the fire seemed to linger, burning the wound as well. A small piece of her dress fluttered to the ground, burnt to ashes. Even her adrenaline didn't seem to keep it from hurting.

This time, he held them both and slashed down on her head. She reacted just in time to bring the pata above her to keep her head from being sliced open or burned or both, but the force sent her to her knees. She screamed in pain. As soon as the pressure was lifted, she reflexively sent her pata down, hitting him on the same shoulder that she injured him before. His scream didn't even sound human. Shivers went through her spine; she almost dropped the pata. She crawled backwards, trying to stand up. She saw the flames retreat, Ron was moving backwards. She cautiously tiptoed towards where she thought the stairs were. The higher ground would give her an advantage. The fiery swords held their place. She couldn't even hear Ron's breathing anymore. She carefully backed up keeping her eyes on the stationary blazes of light.

"Aaahhh!"

Ron had somehow left the flaming swords levitating while he crept around to behind Hermione. The pata was instantly whipped around and she jabbed it in his chest. He was caught off guard, a small dagger held poised above her head. She could see the glint from the faint light of the fire. By the looks of it, she got him near the heart, if not in it. He dropped over, killed at the hands of one of his best friends. Remorse and guilt instantly welled up inside Hermione, the grief at what she had done brought tears to her eyes. She knelt down next to him and searched his pockets for the Deluminator. She clicked it on and the dungeon was filled with a blindingly bright light. As soon as Hermione could see, she looked down on the shell shocked face of Ron, his eyes completely devoid of any sign that he realized that he was about to kill his friend. All she could detect was surprise at her actions, and deep rooted hatred for her. She broke down sobbing, pulling herself away and curling up in a fetal position. She glanced around the rest of the dungeon, large pools of blood on various spots on the floor where Ron's arm bled, or maybe it was from her thigh, she really didn't know.

"Ronald! Have you finished her yet?" Lorelei called down. Hermione heard her heels clacking down the stairs; she decided she'd better hide. She scooted in the corner, terrified of what Lorelei might do to her.

"Well, she must've met a gruesome – " Lorelei stopped in her tracks and screamed. "Oh, YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS YOU STUPID LITTLE MUDBLOOD !" She stalked down the rest of the stairs and quickly found Hermione crouched in the corner, terrified even more so than when she was faced with Ron. This girl was all fury.

She strode to Hermione and grabbed a fistful of her hair, painfully twisting around her fist. "Think you're so brave, killing your friend? Well see just how brave you really are, facing the Dark Lord." She hissed. She yanked on her hair even harder and started dragging her to the stairs, surprisingly strong for such a lithe girl.

Hermione cried out, stumbling along up the stairs. They emerged to see Voldemort accio-ing the ring from Harry's hand. It didn't budge. Lorelei threw her at his feet, Narcissa having been tied up in the corner by Lorelei earlier.

"Ah, what have we here?" Voldemort picked her up by her wrist, and pressed his wand into her throat. "Maybe a little exchange, Potter? The ring for the girl?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide and she tried shaking her head at Harry. She'd be fine, he didn't need to give up whatever he had for her.

Harry seemed to hesitate.

He looked down at her thigh, where Ron had had cut down to the bone. "I'll do-"

"No! No Harry it's not worth-"

"Shut up!" he bit out. Voldemort nonverbally silenced her.

Slowly, Draco came to, having been knocked unconscious when the ring was taken off of him. He blinked. Through his blurry gaze, he saw Voldemort holding Hermione hostage, just as he'd done Naricssa, only Hermione had a gaping wound in her thigh. Oh god, the sight of all the blood and burned skin made him nauseous. He was surprised she hadn't passed out from blood loss yet.

"I'll do it." Harry confirmed. He carefully walked around the trail of blood Hermione left. He slowly pulled off the Ouroboro while still keeping his wand at hand. Hermione started swaying in Voldemort's grasp.

Harry held out the ring to Voldemort; he let go of Hermione who stumbled before collapsing only a few feet away. This was all too easy. The girl would probably not live long after her wound, and if so, he could always finish her off later, but Potter thought she was safe, and so would therefore hand over the ring. Nothing to lose. Voldemort reached out to grab the ring, but right before his fingers could brush it, Harry pulled back and shouted, "Stupefy!"

Draco watched the whole exchange go by, creeping over to Hermione, hopeful that she had only passed out. He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer, cradling her in his arms. Tears streaked his face.

Voldemort shook off the curse, yelling Avada Kedavra at Potter, forgetting that he still possessed the ring that could rebound curses on their owner.

Remembering what happened last time, Draco dove down with Hermione tucked safely under him and rolled on the floor, hoping to escape the rebounding curse. Lorelei did too, just dropping to the floor and lying as flat as could be. The jet of green light hit Harry straight in the chest and knocked him in the wall. He could feel it spring off of him and fan out from him flying parallel to the ground, hitting everything else in the room, including Voldemort.

()()()()()()()()

"Hermione? Hermione please! Can you hear me?" someone sobbed.

Hermione fluttered her eyes, trying to accustom her eyes to the bright lights. A dull throb was felt in her leg. She moaned.

"Hermione oh thank god!" tears splashed on her. A face nuzzled in her chest.

"Can I please see her now Malfoy?"

"Oh god I just can't believe she's okay. I'm so glad she's okay. Please don't be long. Oh Hermione thank god you're okay." He continued to blubber into her chest.

The weight was lifted off her chest as she was sat up. She finally opened her eyes. Harry was there, dried up tears on his cheeks, his smile illuminating. She looked over to see Draco, pulling at his rumpled hair, his eyes suddenly brightening upon seeing her awake.

"What happened?"

"He did it. Potter killed Voldemort." Draco said, sweeping his arm to the side, showing her the Voldemort-free room.

"How long have I been out?"

"Well, I'd say about an hour or so. I've got a nasty bump on my head from where I hit the wall; I was out for a few seconds. Malfoy kept you protected, though we thought you were, um, dying from blood loss or something. We didn't really know what to do with the body, but everybody double checked each other to make sure he was really dead. I untied Narcissa and she ran upstairs and told Lucius. I still can't believe he slept through this whole thing. Once he got over the fact that Voldemort was dead and you got blood everywhere, he alerted the Aurors. And that was forty-five minutes ago. A couple of them took off with the body. I have no idea where they went or what they plan on doing with it and I really don't want to know. The rest are downstairs. We're waiting for the Medi-witches to get here from St. Mungos." Harry explained. "Malfoy wouldn't leave your side." He added with clear disgust.

"I-I don't know what to say." She murmured, more to Draco than Harry. Then he kissed her. And she kissed him back. His hands cupped her cheeks and he pulled her closer. The kiss was full of slow, heated passion, of built up want and desire all tumbling loose in the one heated kiss.

Harry, still in close proximity, let his jaw drop at the sight that shocked him probably more than any other events of the night. Or morning, whichever you choose to call it. He returned to acting like a young boy and dumbly stated, "Ew Hermione. How gross!"

She pulled away from the kiss that was beginning to become something more and replied "Harry, I would like you to meet Draco Malfoy my boyfriend," she looked over at Draco and smiled, "the guy I trust my life with and the guy I love."

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**So it is done! Hope you found what you were looking for in this ending...if not, then you're reading the wrong story, or just wait a little bit for the epilouge. Please let me know what you think!**


	16. Epilouge

**Disclaimer: I had to recheck out Order of the Phoenix to look up some stuff to get it accurate… everything but this plot belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling!**

**Here it is! Ba-ba-da-da-da-da-dum da-da-dum! The epilouge to _Trust Me!_**

* * *

The day was cold and blustery. The man pulled his coat around him tighter and strode down a shabby alleyway. He glanced around, clearly uncomfortable in his surroundings. He walked inside a telephone booth and dialed 62442, waiting for the receptionist.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business," a friendly voice called. The old one must have been replaced by this new, friendlier lady.

"Draco Malfoy, here for Lorelei Avery's disciplinary hearing at one o'clock."

"Thank you. Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

A small silver badge reading _Draco Malfoy, Lorelei Avery's hearing_ dispensed from the change slot. Draco took it and pinned it to his shirt.

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

He pulled out his cell phone and stared at it with impatience as the floor slowly sank into the ground. Upon Hermione's insistence, he purchased the wretched thing, so that whenever he was gone on business, they could still talk. She did not approve of using Patronus's as communication. Hermione had told him that she would call as soon as she got released from work, so they could go to the hearing together. She worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation and was dealing with the head of France.

The elevator came to a stop and Draco stepped out and handed over his wand at the security. Once he got his wand back and a curious look from the new wizard, he pocketed the phone and stepped into a lift down to Level 10: The Courtrooms. The elevator rattled as it descended; a few giggly girls he faintly recognized from Hogwarts got on, and an old fat man squeezed in, chomping on an oversize sandwich. When the elevator finally stopped at the tenth level, Draco stepped out, and took a huge breath – that man stunk like rotten eggs. He continued down the hall towards Courtroom number 7, trying to ignore the girls' not-so-quietly whispered conversation about him.

"He is _so_ hot!"

"I know! I like them tall and thin."

"I bet he has the most _delicious _abs!"

"Oh, I bet! _And _he's filthy rich! He's the heir to Malfoy Enterprises but I hear he's in the Auror business."

"Really? He's _Draco Malfoy_?"

"I can hear you!" Draco growled. God kill him now if those girls were going to be at this hearing. He shoved open the doors, making more of an entrance than he wanted to. Lovely. He stalked up some stairs before sitting away from Potter and the Weasleys. The giggling girls sat a few rows in front of him, still incessantly not-so-quietly whispering about him. He groaned. This was going to be a long day.

()()()()()()()()

"Yes, thank you for your time Monsieur Antoine!" Hermione called out to the French Ambassador. She was frantically trying to stack away the papers from her meeting so she could make the hearing on time. It was 12:56 and she still hadn't called Draco yet. Oh well, I'll just see him there. She took one last look at the mess and decided to leave, flying out of her office to the elevators. She flew past Parvati, or was that Padma and into the nearest lift, thankful for the fact that these things went all the way down unlike they did when Harry had his hearing back in their fifth year. She nervously tapped her foot and fiddled with her bracelet – a gift from Draco on her last birthday. She was anxious to get this hearing over with; Lorelei was guilty of the slaughter of and torture of Anthony Destephano and Dalton Grey, both past boyfriends, poisonous intoxication of Amortentia on Ron Weasley and being just plain evil. Not to mention her being Voldemort's follower. The elevator came to a rickety stop and she jumped off, eager to see Draco.

From seemingly nowhere, she heard a clock stroke one. Damn it! She was late!

"Wait! Please don't close the door yet!" Hermione flew down the hallway, throwing herself inside the courtroom just as disgruntled looking old man closed the door. She smoothed down her hair, and carefully picked her way through the rows of chairs until she came across her fiancé.

"Sorry I'm late, but the French Ambassador just-"

"It's fine." Draco silenced her with a kiss. "Let's just get through today so tomorrow you can be mine." He gave her another peck on the lips. After three years of dating and rebuilding a relationship with the Weasley's, Draco had finally proposed to her during one of the Weasley family dinners. It was a long engagement, two years to be in fact. It took just that long to plan the wedding of the century; Narcissa just _had_ to invite everyone of the high social class, and Hermione had to get word out to her muggle friends and family. Because of the muggles attending, it took several months to wrap Narcissa's mind around doing things the muggle way, but she finally agreed to compromise with a few 'tricks'. The date for the wedding was December 21, 2002, which was tomorrow. The hearing had also been scheduled for the same date as the wedding, but seeing as the Malfoy's status and influence, and Hermione, being a part of the Golden Trio and working in the Ministry, they just got it pushed to the day before.

"SILENCE!" Boomed Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice. "We are here for this disciplinary hearing of the twentieth of December into offenses committed under the Unforgivables usage on fellow human beings, usage of poisonous amounts of Amortentia on a fellow human being, and being a former Death Eater by Lorelei Kalista Avery, resident at 788 Trenton Road, Test Valley, Hampshire. Interrogators: Kingsley Adam Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic; Dennis David Creevey, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Percy Ignatius Weasley, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."

Lorelei, who looked great for someone who had spent the last three years in Azkaban grumbled at the starting of her hearing. She had quickly fled the scene, apparating her and her mother's corpse to their home before gathering a few belongings and heading for the run. It had taken two years to track the slippery girl and even then, they didn't have enough evidence to really do anything to her, except for fleeing the crime scene.

"The charges against the accused are as follows: That she deliberately used all three of the Unforgivable Curses on her fellow class mates Anthony Destephano and Dalton Grey from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, resulting in the death of both boys. She also used the Cruciatus and Imperius Curse on Anastasa Karol Griffin and Precia Brittney Fears. She consciously intoxicated Ronald Weasley on lethal amounts of Amortentia, infatuating him to the effects of the Imperius Curse. She is charged with using ancient Dark Magic upon the Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Narcissa Mintaka Black Malfoy, and Draco Lucius Malfoy. And she is charged for being a Death Eater." The small disgruntled old man who nearly slammed the door on Hermione walked up to the chained girl and took a wet cloth and scrubbed her forearm, slowly revealing a Dark Mark, identical to Dracos.

Several of the older men gasped, having not even considered using muggle makeup or muggle airbrushes to hide the Dark Mark.

"Do you deny being a Death Eater and faithfully following the Dark Lord?" Shacklebolt questioned, still unaccustomed to using Voldemort's name, even after five years.

"Well, I thought that much was obvious; I mean, you already knew the Mark was there, and in case no one has noticed, it's staring you in the face and there's not much I can do to dissuade you from the decision of me being guilty. So no, I don't deny being a Death Eater because I _loved_ it." She answered with a smug smirk on her face.

"Uh…um…okay. Did you get her confession?" He stammered. The court scribe nodded while furiously writing down everything she said.

"Do you deny using the Unforgivables on Dalton John Grey and Anthony Kyle Destephano, two of your many past boyfriends, right after their graduation from Hogwarts? This resulting in their torture and, ultimately, death?"

"No."

"Alright then…do you deny intoxicating Ronald Weasley with lethal amounts of Amortentia to use in the long run for the same effects of the Imperius curse? This as well, ultimately leading to his death by Hermione Granger's hands?"

"No." She freely admitted with a quick wink at Hermione.

That was a sore spot. Harry had known that whatever had happened in the basement, Ron had not come out of it alive. Hermione hadn't had the guts to tell him that she killed him, even if it was to save her own life. Later at the Avery's home Harry had run into the leftovers of all the Amortentia which let him and everyone else piece together his infatuation with Lorelei. When Harry had turned the evidence to the Ministry, Hermione confessed that she killed him. Her trial had been a tricky one. It took a lot to keep her out of Azkaban. She had been watched by Aurors 24/7 for the next four years. She was rarely allowed to leave her flat, and when she did, she had to have an Auror present at all times.

"Um…okay…do you deny torturing with the Cruciatus curse Anastasa Karol Griffin and Precia Brittney Fears?"

"No. Are we done here? We all know I'm guilty, just give me a sentence and let's get on with it." She replied in a bored tone.

"I object!" The blonde girl jumped up. "She _tortured_ me and Tazz for crying out loud! And she _killed_ Anthony and Dalton!"

"Sit!"

Precia had a thing going on with Dalton, and Anastasa with Anthony before Lorelei got jealous and murdered them, shortly after their graduation in 1993. Draco was lucky that she had Ron, or was at least using him before she could get to Draco, her fiancé. Hermione soon found out, well, four and a half months later to be exact, that it wasn't really Astoria that Draco was engaged to. He was originally planned to be wed to Daphne Greengrass, a childhood friend, someone his own age. But then Lorelei had discovered him and the Malfoy family wealth and used some sort of ancient dark magic that acted somewhat as the Imperius Curse; she had changed their minds about his engagement, yet still believed that they were wholeheartedly making the decision without any magical influence. Of course there was, but they didn't realize it. This of course broke Daphne's heart, and Draco was only trying to tell Astoria that he never meant to hurt Daphne. At the time Hermione found out, Draco was wondering about any life they might have together he remembered that he was technically still engaged to someone else. It took a while, a long while, before he could break it off because it took so long to find Lorelei.

Lorelei glared at Precia and Anastasa. "Please can we just get on with it? I'm not getting any younger over here!"

"Very well. If you plead guilty to all of the accusations, then your total sentence is life in Azkaban!" Shacklebolt accentuated with a bang of his gavel.

People slowly started filing out of the courtroom, somewhat disappointed in the hearing. They were expecting pleas of mercy and apologies of Lorelei, not some nonchalant confession as if she were discussing the weather and had better places to be.

Hermione clasped Draco's hand as they made their way out, chattering about the next day.

"Oh Hermione dear!" Lorelei exclaimed with a poisonously sweet tone. She lowered her voice, "You'd better watch your back for stealing my fiancé and you too Draco darling for my mother." She sneered. Several Aurors ran to Hermione and Draco's side as they saw the shocked expressions. They surrounded Lorelei's uncomfortable looking chair, and quickly picked it up and hurried out another door to a private floo directly to Azkaban.

"Hermione are you okay?" Draco tentatively asked at seeing her blank face.

"Ye-yeah. Sh-she can't do anything from Azkaban, right?" She asked, looking up into his eyes.

"Right. She was just saying that to scare you Hermione. She can't do anything. Let's just go home and look forward to our wedding tomorrow." He said, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Come on." He said, pulling her out of the gloomy room and into a lift. They ran to the nearest floo and flooed to Malfoy Manor, completely have had forgotten about Lorelei all together, just eager for the day to end, so they could be wed.

()()()()()()()()XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX()()()()()()()()

"They make such a lovely couple, don't they Lucius?" Narcissa cooed at her husband.

"Yes they do dear." Lucius said, twirling his champagne. Hermione had looked beautiful in her fairytale-esque bridal gown and Draco had never looked happier when they had said their 'I do's'. Lucius looked over at the newlyweds dancing in the same clearing they Narcissa took the photos of them with the peacocks. The cherry blossom tree seemed to separate them from the rest of the world, as they danced under its leaves. "They remind me of us on our wedding day," Lucius smiled. "We danced in the same spot, remember?"

"Yes. Of course. But we didn't have peacocks, no. We had albino crocodiles that had to be locked up during the ceremony, which made for some very angry carnivores once they were let back out." Narcissa reminisced, her face frowning as she relived a particularly nasty memory.

"Lucius! Narcissa!" Kingsley Shacklebolt called. He cast a quick glance at the happy couple before turning to them.

"Oh! Good evening Mr. Shacklebolt! Is there – "

"Narcissa, Lucius," he cut her off. "This is very important. Lorelei is missing," Kingsley whispered.

"What?" Lucius inhaled sharply.

"Yes. This morning when the guards came around for breakfast, she was gone. All the surrounding cellmates have been questioned and none know of her plans. It seems the dementors haven't gotten to her yet either," Kingsley informed them.

"Lucius," Narcissa squeaked. "We need to tell Draco and Hermione!" she exclaimed tugging on his freshly ironed shirt.

()()()()()()()()xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx()()()()()()()()

Just as the song came to an end, Draco's father came up behind him, earning a curious glance from the bride.

"Oh, hello there father. Wanting a dance with your daughter-in-law?" Draco joked, secretly hoping his father would decline.

"No, but I do need to speak with you two secretly." Lucius urged. He ushered them over around a corner and inhaled deeply. "Lorelei is gone."

"Yeah…gone to Azkaban," Draco reminded him.

"No, as in gone gone. Gone from Azkaban. Escaped. Missing. Nowhere to be found. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

The newlywed's jaws dropped.

Draco looked down at his beautiful wife and fear beat at his ribcage. Whatever happened with Lor, he _will _protect Hermione. She meant everything to him and even though she may put on a brave front because of the Gryffindor in her, he didn't think that she could handle the trauma of dealing with her mind games again.

"Are there Aurors on the case? How could she have escaped, she was just put there last night! Oh Harry! Has someone told Harry yet? And the Weasleys?" Hermione fretted. Of course she would be concerned about the mental state of the Weasleys after everything Lorelei put them through. "Oh oh oh! I have to do _something!_" her eyes got big and she started hyperventilating with worry. She was probably afraid of what Lorelei would do to her if she got her hands on her. She valiantly tried to hide her fear, but it was seeping through her façade.

"Hermione babe. Calm down," He grasped her face and leaned in close, their foreheads touching. "No matter what happens with Lorelei, I will protect you Hermione. Do you trust me Hermione? I may have been a coward back in school, hiding behind father's wealth, and snarky comments, but I didn't have anything worth fighting for then. Now I do." Hermione's eyes started tearing up. "I have you. I have this wonderfully brilliant, amazing, bossy bookworm all to myself and I love her. Do you trust me love?"

"Yeah," Hermione sniffed. She peeked up at him and the befinning of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Yeah, I do."

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**So it is done folks! I very much enjoyed writing this ( as long as it took me :P ) and I really enjoyed having my email spammed up with everyone who reviewed and subscribed and added me and my story to their favorites list! I do not intend on a sequel to this though I am working on a songfic to _Stop and Stare _by OneRepublic. I hope you enjoyed _Trust Me _as much as I did!**


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